


Peace in Imperfection

by raelee514



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, before season six, post season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:39:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: : This is my idea of what happens after "Swan Song." Dean is trying at Lisa's, Castiel gets some news in Heaven. Now Dean and Castiel are on a road trip, together!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace in Imperfection

One

It was night, as Castiel stood in Lisa Braeden’s backyard. He was by the huge yew bush that Dean had just recently pruned for her. Castiel’s gaze focused on the sleepy flowers in the garden under the back window that were waiting for the sun to rise. He liked it in Lisa’s backyard, but this felt wrong, he wasn’t really there, he was in the Garden and the detail of the garden of his choosing was pitch-perfect. The colors, the light from where the moon shone down, even the slight breezes of the wind matched the weather of the moment. Yet it paled. It paled in comparison to the real thing, there wasn’t any one thing Castiel could pinpoint that was missing but he knew that there was something that wasn’t there. Maybe it was simply the fact that he knew it was a copy, maybe it was his knowledge, maybe it was feelings. It turned out once you turned your freewill and your emotions on they didn’t fade away. 

Once, he’d have seen God’s Eden here as it had been the day of its creation. Now he saw the place of his own choice. Lisa’s simple flower bed, her overly big yew bush and lights on the home that Dean was trying to make his own. Castiel had visited there more than once, usually late at night; Dean would sense him as only Dean could and come to him outside in the garden. The two of them would barely talk, and when they did neither of them said what they really wanted to say. Castiel wanted to push Dean to leave, to hunt, but he was afraid he was wrong and Dean maybe was finding peace and happiness with Lisa. Yet he wasn’t sure he was -- he’d asked Dean what he wanted more peace or freedom but he had the sense his only friend was neither free or peaceful. He wanted to help, but even full of grace he had no idea how. 

Castiel thought about leaving now, going to the real yew bush and waiting for Dean to find him there in the middle of another Indiana summer night. But he didn’t because Joshua had summoned him at God’s behest. Castiel once would have felt both severe honor and fear at the request, however he was no longer the angel he’d been. Now his trepidation was not out of fear at seeing the being that created him, earth, and humanity, but because of the myriad of contradictory feelings Castiel felt. He felt honor, he couldn’t help himself, his father had summoned him. Him. Castiel. Yet he was pissed off, he kept thinking about how he’d searched for God, thinking he’d care enough to stop Lucifer and save Earth because he’d brought him back as well as kept both Sam and Dean from Lucifer the night Lucifer rose. Then Dean had delivered the message Joshua had given Dean and Sam. God doesn’t think it is his problem. Castiel didn’t understand, he was angry then and angry now. It made him questioned his choice to come to heaven everyday. 

The other angels didn’t respect him, they didn’t understand him, he was too different from them all. Despite his Grace they still considered him fallen, but no one moved against him because they knew God had brought him back. But it didn’t mean they’d listen. He had hoped it might, he wanted his brothers and sisters to know what it was to feel, to make choices, to understand what it is that is terrific about humanity. 

“You have not vacated your vessel.” Joshua’s voice cuts through Castiel’s thoughts. Castiel turns and sees him pruning the yew tree, fixing the uneven job Dean had done on the real bush below. It would only be perfect in the Garden of Heaven. It made Castiel’s stomach turn, he didn’t want it fixed, it wasn’t supposed to be perfect. Dean had done a fine job. 

“I haven’t. No,” Castiel said, responding to Joshua.

“May I know why?”

“Leaving this body would feel like leaving a part of me behind. Jimmy has moved on to his place in Heaven, this body is...” Castiel trails off thinking and then finds the right word. The simplest definition for his reason. “Me.”

~~

Dean closed Ben’s bedroom door behind him. The boy finally fell asleep after insisting Dean tell him every detail he could remember about seeing Ozzy live the few times he had. At least Ben didn’t expect normal bedtime stories or something, Dean thought, leaning against the door a moment. He felt restless, not tired, yet he’d been up since dawn, doing yard and handy-man work around Lisa’s house. Things she’d been saving up to pay for but no longer had the need. Dean wasn’t going to just take her couch, insinuate himself into her life and not do anything for her. She was doing too much for him just taking him into her life. He hadn’t even made a move yet, he liked her well enough, she was beautiful, he still remembered their weekend near a decade past -- with a forty year jaunt in hell in the middle -- like it was yesterday. Great bendy sex was hard to forget, it’d been a fun carefree weekend. 

Carefree wasn’t something Dean recalled as anything but a memory. 

Sighing, Dean made his way down the stairs, the living room was small, cozy and lived in with Ben’s toys on the floor, Lisa’s books on the tables. He felt completely out of place in the normal tableau. Lisa was on the couch, her laptop in her lap, doing something on the computer he suspected was related to the massage/yoga business she owned. He was living with a self-employed woman -- it was pretty hot. He watched her from the foot of the stairs, thinking about walking over there, taking the laptop and making a move on her. She’s been giving him hints, sideline looks, she’d let him move in -- he knew he had the go ahead. That this woman he’d built a fantasy of a normal life with a kid around actually wanted to help him make it real really blew his mind. He’d never get it. Dean thought about going over there and making the first step from bright, sweet dream into something real but he didn’t. Instead he crossed the room, went into the kitchen and pulled a beer out the refrigerator. 

“Want me to heat up the leftovers?” Lisa called out without looking up from her laptop.

“Not hungry.”

Lisa didn’t hide her sigh. “Dean, you’ve been barely eating. I made sloppy joes, I remember how you used to bite into cheeseburgers like they were... well as good as sex.”

Dean swallowed his beer. “Yeah, well they are, generally. Just not hungry, I ate before you got home.”

“I got home hours ago.”

“Lisa, I’m fine,” Dean said, sounding more angry then he meant. “I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly.

Lisa closed her laptop, stood up and walked over to where he still stood by the refrigerator his half drunk beer in his hand. She looked him in the eye and Dean forced himself not to look away.

“You aren’t Dean,” she said, her hand coming up and touching his face. 

The touch felt too intimate and Dean steps back away from the warmth of her hand. “Lisa,”

Lisa nodded. “Okay. Think about eating. You want me to heat it up I will. I’m going to head up to my room.” She turned around, but looked back. “The bed has room, you don’t have to sleep...”

“Couch is fine,” Dean said, lying because it was killing his back. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Dean closed his eyes and downed the rest of his beer in one gulp, waiting to be sure Lisa was long gone from the kitchen before opening his eyes again. He looked toward the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard, eyes falling on the yew bush wondering if Cas will show up tonight. 

~~

Joshua returned to his pruning of the yew bush with a knowing smile on his face -- a human one -- Castiel was choosing to see things in that way, others may call it limited to Castiel it felt like the only right way to see. 

“Is he coming?” Castiel asked after a few more minutes had past, the only sound being the breaking of branches in Joshua’s simple hand used shears. 

“I am here.” A voice said, it was behind Castiel and familiar. Too familiar and Castiel turned quickly and stared.

“Hello, Castiel.” Chuck Shurley said simply and sincerely. As if he was meant to be standing in the center of The Garden by a copy of Lisa Braeden’s yew bush. Castiel swallowed, blinked and realized that beyond surprise what he really felt was a level of anger that was even more furious than then the bitter disappointed rage he’d felt when he thought Dean was giving up on all they’d fought for. 

“You are God?” he asked, his voice sounding oddly quiet to his ears, which were full of the blood rush from his heart beating too wildly. “You are God?”

“Yes,” Chuck answered simply.

Confirmation. Good, because Chuck Shurley Prophet of the Lord would never deserve this...God however. Castiel hit Chuck -- God -- whoever -- hard in the jaw. And his hand felt like it hit a wall made of diamond. Pain reverberated through his finger bones up his arm, making him pull back and grab the wounded hand. Vaguely he thought that this must have been what Dean felt when he punched him that one time, mostly though he pissed off the action had been fruitless because Castiel was pissed beyond his current understanding of the emotion. “Fuck you!” he seethed instead, glaring at Chuck knowing his expression was a fruitless as his punch but having to nonetheless.

“I know you are angry, Castiel.”

Castiel straightened his stance, let go of his hand and willed himself to ignore the pain. It didn’t match the intensity of his feelings anyway. “It wouldn’t take anyone omniscient to figure that out,” he said.

Chuck smiled. “Yes. I couldn’t be directly involved; when the real Chuck Shurley died accidentally after drinking himself into a stupor, I let Raphael believe he revived him and took his place. Years ago. It was the only way I knew to be indirectly involved without affecting the final outcome. It worked out much better than I thought.”

“Better than you thought,” Castiel repeated, baffled and wondering how much more angry a man could get. “Sam is dead.”

“You think of yourself as a man, Castiel, yet you are here in Heaven and not on Earth.”

“Someone has to try keep things in check up here.”

“You are right. I am returned, as of now and my first order of business is -- well your orders.”

Castiel blinked, shook his head. “And what makes you think that I will ever follow your orders.”

“The orders are go to Earth. Hunt, find your own way, help the Winchesters if you wish.”

Castiel made another fist and repeated through gritted teeth. “Sam Winchester is dead and Dean Winchester is even more broken than could be imagined. What would you have me do?”

Chuck smiled again. “Sam isn’t dead. He is in Bobby Singer’s panic room, trying to sleep. Dean is not so broken his pieces can’t be held together -- Castiel, I wish you to use your freewill, I did not watch you embrace it to take it away when I gifted you the return of grace.” 

“Sam is alive?”

“Yes.” Chuck said.

 

Two

Castiel left Heaven before Chuck, he couldn’t think of him as God, finished saying yes. He was at Bobby’s in a flash but chose to keep himself hidden from human senses, being careful to cloak himself fully because Sam’s senses were sharper than most due to being a hunter and being tainted with Azazel’s blood. He had to search the house for Sam, Bobby he could sense but Sam was still hidden to him by the Enochian on his ribs. 

He found Sam in the panic room, door unlocked, laying on his back on a cot dangling Dean’s amulet in front of him. The amulet that was supposed to find God, Castiel’s anger rose again in a hot wave that made him feel tight and clenched inside the skin he’d chosen to wear. Chuck must have controlled it whenever it was near him, kept it from burning and revealing him as his true self. He had to focus on breathing and blinking until he could bring Sam back into focus.

Sam who was alive. Sam who was fine. Sam who was obviously missing his brother as he held the amulet in front of him and just stared at it’s face as if the inanimate object could stare back at him. Footsteps told him Bobby was approaching, Castiel looked up to watch the man the boys relied on for guidance -- a honor Bobby deserved, Castiel thought meanly thinking about Chuck for a moment. Castiel saw that Bobby was thinking something similar to what Castiel was feeling as he stared at Sam, he didn’t understand why Sam was here and not with Dean.

“When you going to go see him?”

Sam sighed, he looked put upon as he sat up, putting his feet on the floor and faced Bobby. “I told you I’m not. He’s got a different life now, he doesn’t need me showing up and telling him things he doesn’t need to know.”

“You idjit your brother needs to know you’re alive and okay. This is Dean we’re talking about boy, he needs to know this and not be thinking you’re still in that trap in the pit.”

Sam shook his head. “He’s happy.”

Bobby let out a huff. “Ain’t heard anything that tells me that.”

“You haven’t heard from him at all. He’s living his life, he’s with Lisa and Ben, Bobby he’s getting a home and a life. Dad wanted that for him. My mom wanted normal for us both. Dean should at least get it.”

“Arguing with you is like arguing with your dad.”

Sam shrugged. “This is best,” he muttered, putting the amulet around his neck.

“Right. Sure.” Bobby muttered back. “Dinners ready, no complaining about the lack of vegetables.”

Castiel wanted to shout at Sam but he knew that it would do no good. His anger at Chuck was starting to roll over onto Sam. He knew he was angry at Sam for different reasons, that he was more baffled by his decision than angry at it. But Castiel knew what he had to do to fix this. 

He was by Lisa Braeden’s unevenly pruned real yew bush before he finished the thought to go there. Instead of waiting for Dean to realize he was outside though, he walked up to the sliding glass doors and knocked loudly. 

~~

Lisa found that she couldn’t stop herself from going to the bedroom window and looking out toward her yew bush. Almost every night Dean was out there with this mysterious -- something -- man. He wasn’t human, this visitor and though Lisa was sure Dean would never allow anyone dangerous near Ben she wasn’t sure what to think about it. Dean had told her all supernatural creatures were dangerous and to never trust one. Ever. He’d been clear, adamant, black and white. Yet almost nightly he was out in the dark, by the yew bush with this creature that seemed to appear out of the air in a small gust of wind. 

Sometimes they talked, mostly they stood together in silence looking at the sky, or the bush, or her garden. But watching Dean at those moments fascinated her because his stance loosened up, his shoulders seemed less stooped like whatever this creature was he lessened the load of Dean’s past in some way that no one else could. A part of Lisa felt she shouldn’t be watching but couldn’t stop herself. 

No one was out there, the yard was empty when she first looked out. She watched for a good five minutes, heard Dean opening and closing the refrigerator downstairs and wished it wasn’t for a beer. He wasn’t eating enough, she remembered him loving food, especially cheeseburgers and pie. Dean wasn’t the boy she had met all those years ago and she hadn’t known him once he become a man but she had a feeling he’d lost something important along the way that made him pale, that dulled all the broad strokes that made Dean the guy who’d given her the most amazing weekend of her life until the Saturday Ben was born. 

Lisa was about to turn away, grab her crossword puzzle and get into bed when the man arrived. He appeared after a strange movement of the yew bush that she’d begun to recognize as not being the wind. This night was different however from the past because instead of staying where he appeared, quiet and patiently waiting for Dean, he strode quickly toward her house. She stared then jumped when she heard a sharp sound and realized right away it was this man knocking on her back door. 

She turned around and ran straight down the stairs and into her kitchen. Dean had already opened the door. Lisa prayed it hadn’t woken Ben, she didn’t even know how to begin to handle a situation like this.

“Dean we must get to Bobby’s now,” she heard the man say, his voice low growl that sounded angry to her. 

“Dean?” she said.

“What’s going on?” Dean said to the man, putting a hand up to quiet her before turning. “It’s fine,” he said but his attention was back on the man. “Is Bobby okay?”

“I had a conversation with God. We need to go to Bobby’s.”

Dean’s entire body stance went from concerned curiosity to outright dangerous. “Fuck that Cas, I’m not getting involved with any more holier than now missions, especially from your God.”

“Dean your brother is alive.”

“What?” Dean shouted.

Lisa cringed at the noise, jumped inside her skin, yet the mother in her couldn’t be squelched. “Dean, Ben.”

Dean sighed. “Take us somewhere other than Bobby’s, now, Cas.”

The man reached out and touched Dean’s forehead with the tips of his fingers, and Lisa found herself standing alone in her kitchen, confused, scared and a little bit angry.

~~

There was the sudden lurch that always made Dean feel like his stomach now lived in the bottom of his toes. It was easy however to acclimate to his surroundings, Castiel had taken them to the baseball diamond where Ben’s team practiced. He swallowed over the large lump that had formed in his throat and just stared at Castiel, willing him to take back what he said, or worse explain it further. He pushed down anything that felt like hope because it wasn’t an option. It just wasn’t. 

“Yes,” Castiel said, his voice as soft as Castiel knew how to manage. “It’s true.”

Dean shook his head, this wasn’t happening, it wasn’t. “Is he...okay?” He couldn’t bring himself to put his question any other way. Evil, wrong, demon, Lucifer? Dean shut his eyes and turned away from Castiel’s penetrating stare, he couldn’t look at him, he didn’t want to see anything right now. He didn’t want to deal with this, if Dean thought the bastard answered prayers he would be asking God right now for this to be a bad dream. 

“He is fine. He’s at Bobby’s.” Castiel answered in the same Cas-soft voice that said he was trying to explain the situation to him with tact after his initial tactlessness. 

Dean shook his head. “Are you sure?”

“I did reconnaissance before coming to you, Dean. He is himself.”

Sam is alive. Sam is okay. Sam is Sam. It looped in Dean’s brain, he started to walk the bases on the diamond, Castiel a bit behind his left shoulder following, waiting for him to process. Dean wasn’t sure he ever would process it.

Sammy was okay, he was safe and he was with Bobby. He was probably geeking out on Bobby’s books, grumbling about the noise in the scrap yard starting too early on the weekdays. He’d be making egg whites in the kitchen and trying to get Bobby to eat them. “He’s at Bobby’s?” Dean asked, he needed to hear it again, it all still felt a bit surreal. 

“Yes.”

“And, he’s fine?”

“Yes.”

Sammy is alive, okay and safe with Bobby. So why the hell was he with Castiel and finding out from the angel and not from Sam.

“Son of bitch planning to tell me he’s okay?” Dean asked, thinking he knows the answer, knowing that Castiel wouldn’t be here if Sam had any plans to let Dean know he was alive and kicking.  
“No.”

Fuck. It hurt more than he thought it would, it always did when it was Sam, Dean thought wryly. He blinked and looked away from Castiel to the dirt under his feet. He breathed in deeply. Sam didn’t want to see him, Sam didn’t want to be with him -- again. 

“He thinks he is respecting your happiness.”

Dean looked up, met Castiel’s gaze with his own, surprised at himself for not hiding his vulnerablitity and shook his head in confusion. “My happiness? What the hell, Cas? He knows that he is...”

Castiel sighed. “I heard him talking when Bobby tried to get him to let you know. He said he saw you with Lisa and Ben. He said he thought you were happy and how you had dreamed of them. He mentioned things about your parents wanting this life for both of you and said one of you should get it.”

Dean took it in but couldn’t shake that Sam just didn’t want to see him, that Sam felt let down and hurt. That Sam was angry that Dean hadn’t gone after him, that Dean had failed him by not stopping him from falling into the pit. Dean closed his eyes, tried to focus on the words Castiel had said and not everything he felt, what he always felt. “Sammy thinks he’s doing what I’d want, that’s what he’s saying? He’s alive and kicking and doesn’t think...” Dean swallowed. 

“Dean, we can go to him right now.”

“No. Cas, no. No way.”

Castiel stared at Dean, confusion written on his face. Dean stared back, willing Cas not ask him what he was thinking, or feeling, to just not. Castiel nodded minutely, his expression flattening out to his usual bored looking one. 

Dean breathed out a sigh of relief and turned around again and kept walking the bases. Third, home, first, second, third, home, first, second, third, home -- He needed to see Sam. He was angry, he was hurt, he was relieved beyond the telling of it but it all still felt numb, odd. He’d heard Castiel tell him what he knew of Sam’s reasons and it had opened up more wounds, reminded him of things he’d been ignoring for months. He licked his lips, he needed time too, he wasn’t ready to see Sam but he knew he needed to see Sam. “Cas, we’re taking a road trip -- I mean, Cas will you take a road trip with me?”

Castiel nodded. “It’d be a pleasure.”

“Upstairs?”

“Will be fine without me,” Castiel said and Dean thought he caught an edge to the words, but he couldn’t be sure, he was too caught up in his own head. Sammy was okay. 

“Sammy’s alive, Cas,” Dean said for the first time letting his happiness shine through it, not ending it with a question. It did feel kind of good. 

~~

Castiel was unsure what to do, they are back at Lisa Braeden’s home, Lisa was where they left her, pacing in her kitchen looking both angry and concerned. Castiel had thought with brief amusement that it was a condition that Dean created easily in others. Angry and confused. Dean blinked a few times, acclimating himself to being back in the house -- he hated traveling by wings, or Angel Mojo as Dean called it. Then he’d walked over to Lisa and put his hands on her shoulders and said. “I’m leaving.” No preamble, nothing, just that he was leaving. Then he’d asked if he could wake up Ben to say goodbye. Lisa had nodded. And then Castiel had found himself alone in the kitchen with this woman he did not know.

She didn’t look happy to be in the situation either, Castiel thought it was at least better than finding out Chuck had been God all along, something that still had him clenching his fist every time it ran unbidden through his mind. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it and he really wished he could. He wondered how humans did it, pushed things they didn’t want to think about out of their heads. He knew they did it, humans had a great capacity for ignoring things they didn’t want to think about. He thought idly about asking Dean, but Dean had his own pressing issues on his mind.

“What are you?” he suddenly heard Lisa Braeden ask him. He looked up and at her. She was a bright soul, not as bright as Dean but bright nonetheless. He instantly saw strength brought on by a tough childhood and wisdom learned the hard way by one too many mistakes before the birth of her son. He saw how Ben, her son, was the brightest spot in her life, the very reason she’d learned her lessons and found her hard won wisdom. She felt whole to him in a way no other human he’d met ever had -- he thought maybe this was what all humans sought for, knowing who and what they were with this certainty. 

“I am an Angel of....” He trailed off, God’s Chuck-face coming into his mind and he trailed off. “I am an Angel.”

Lisa stared and then she laughed nervously. “Right? What are you?”

“An Angel.”

Lisa closed her eyes and then nodded. “Is that why he lets you near, he trusts you because you’re an angel?” Lisa asked, her voice saying she still didn’t believe it, would’t believe it even if he’d answered that question with a yes, which he wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be true.

“No. He thinks Angels are dicks. I am, well, I think he may think I’m an exception. Though he’s called me a dick more than once.”

Lisa laughed then, a real laugh and nodded. “Sounds like him, he hates any mention of God.”

“I am not very fond of Him myself,” Castiel heard himself say, the admission shocking him. It was true yet he still felt a bit of shame for having said it out loud. He had to look away from Lisa for a moment, stared at the wood flooring of her kitchen. 

“His brother, you said he was alive?”

“Yes.”

“Is, Sam okay?”

“Yes.”

“Will you, will...Will Dean be coming back?” she asked, her voice breaking a bit, betraying the fact she wanted Dean to come back, she hadn’t just let him into her home out of kindness. Castiel could tell she was kind, would have simply out of kindness but there was more there. Like so many others, like him, she was drawn to Dean’s brightness, something he never could hide from those who knew who he was, what he did. 

“You’d have to ask Dean that, I have no control over his choices.”

“He’ll lie.” Lisa said. “I need to know what to tell my son, when he asks for him. I need to know if there is hope...” she left out that she wanted to know for herself too, hiding behind her maternal needs. 

Castiel nodded. “I understand. But I cannot look to the future for you, I’m sorry.”

Lisa sighed and turned her back on him, leaning her palms on the counter closest to her. “He won’t be back. He’s going to go back to his life before...before whatever it was that happened that brought him here. He never wanted to leave it anyway.”

Castiel felt once again this woman’s wisdom, his thoughts turning to ways to offer her some kind of comfort. “You and your son mean something to him,” was all he found to say to her. 

“I know. It’s just not real.”

 

Three

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice sounded loud to Dean’s ears, they hadn’t uttered a word to each other after Dean left Lisa’s house with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Need to stop at Dad’s storage room first,” Dean explained, answering Castiel’s question. He should have known the minute he started headed east rather than west that Castiel would know he was going the wrong way. As in he was going in the opposite direction of Sam. 

Castiel stayed silent, sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, looking ahead in that bored and stoic way he had of being. 

Dean reached out and turned on the radio, classic rock blaring out of the speakers a welcome sound to Dean’s ears. Music and the thrum of the car under his thighs, it was the perfect combination and for the first time in months he’d be able to enjoy it for more than a mere hour of driving around Cicero. 

He’d felt trapped there, it hadn’t been about Lisa and Ben, they’d been bright spots in the whole thing. Not quite what he’d fantasized, he never made love to Lisa, they never even had sex again. He could have, he could have been with her, they could have built something more than the small start of a friendship he thinks he may have just left behind. He wonders if he could call her, just to talk -- and grips the wheel of the impala harder. Sam wanted him to have his dream, have a home -- that’d been Dad’s wish for him. A home? He’d never felt at home at Lisa’s, he’d felt comfortable, wanted, he’d loved being there for Ben after school, helping him learn how to hit a ball harder with a bat to get a home run. He’d love talking music and showing Ben how to tune up the Impala, promising him he’d teach him how to drive with her... He’d keep that promise, like he’d kept Sam’s. But he didn’t really want to be with Lisa, it wasn’t starry and sweet like the simple dreams he had of someone loving him unconditionally and a kid to watch out for. He’d felt restless and lost. He’d looked for close by hunts, only finding ones too far away and texting them to Bobby and never responding to Bobby’s answers. Knowing the other hunter would make sure they were taken care of -- how many of those hunts had Sam taken care of, without him. 

Dean hit the pedal harder, putting Cicero behind him, next up Indiana, and he felt better than he had in a long time. He felt like he’d finally admitted that whatever his home may be it wasn’t some normal suburbia. Dean knew he wanted more than just hunting, but damn it if he didn’t need to hunt, it was itching under his fingers and had just grown into an impossible to ignore need since Castiel had shown up to tell him Sam was alive and okay. 

It was more pressing than seeing Sam, and hell Dean knew that maybe he was making it more important, to avoid dealing with how much Sam’s current actions were hurting him, reminding him of a million past hurts laid out against him by his little brother. But he didn’t care. He had his car, he had Castiel with him -- and that felt good. An ally he could count on, someone who knew him and wouldn’t talk his ear off and try to make him talk. Someone that he could just be with and that was good. He knew Sam was okay, and yeah he’d felt guilty when he said goodbye to Ben, promising to call him every week -- made sure to put an alarm in his phone to remind him to make that call too -- and he’d felt bad when he said goodbye to Lisa. He might see her again, but whatever they could have had was over, it probably never really been in the cards anyway. Her life just wasn’t his. 

 Being in his car, thinking about hunting, his brother, he was feeling something he hadn’t in a long while and it felt like a missing piece of himself had finally clicked back into place. He needed to hunt and he knew Castiel wouldn’t rush him to Sioux Falls, he’d go along with Dean’s plan. 

Dean gave Cas a sidelong glace and frowned. Castiel’s features were harder than usual, his eyes looked like they were boring a hole in the dashboard -- a flash of Cas’s angel juice making that happen hit Dean’s mind. “Cas, man, you okay?”

Castiel turned his stare onto Dean, Dean met it for as long as he could before he had to glance at the road, crashing his baby would be as bad as accidental angel damage. “Are you?”

Dean shrugged. “Better than I have been and not at all, but come on man you look,” Dean looked at Castiel again, looking hard and figuring out what the right word was for the look he saw. “You look pissed and hurt.”

Castiel looked away from him and then sighed. “I am.”

“Why?”

“God. He...he is a dick.” Castiel said.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the declaration, a sudden memory of Castiel saying something about talking to God around the same time he mentioned Sam was alive. “Hey, wait, you said you talked to him? Did you see him? I mean that’s a big deal for an angel isn’t it?”

Castiel laughed. “It was an honor, or I thought so at the time.”

“Didn’t live up to his reputation?”

Castiel shook his head. “He lived up to it, I think that is why I am so angry...seeing him brought home how much he wasn’t there for me, for you, during the Apocalypse. And it hurts in ways I’ve never felt before.”

Dean swallowed, trying to think of what to say, Castiel was new to the feeling thing but he was Cas, and he understood things Dean couldn’t comprehend about being human and yet was totally at a loss about it at the same time. “He’s your dad, family stuff it always rips you to shreds more than anything else.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes. I would...I would tell you more, Dean, but I need to figure out my own anger before I anger you about it.”

Dean didn’t like the sound of that but he decided to let it go. “Look man, I’m here you need to talk.”

“I must say the same thing, Dean. Why exactly are we headed Buffalo?”

“I put everything that was in the trunk into storage, we’re going to need weapons -- I’m going to need weapons, rock salt, accelerant, the demon knife.”

“May I ask why?”

“If we see a hunt on the way to Bobby’s, I want to be able to kill the bitch.”

Castiel nodded, “I see, I am surprised you haven’t started hunting sooner.”

Dean sighed. “I made a promise, figured out recently it was one I shouldn’t have made but I made it.”

“To Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“Him being back negates it?”

Dean shook his head. “Him being back makes a few things clearer...” Dean didn’t mention it also made a few things much muddier, but it flickered through his head before he pushed it away.

“How do you push things you don’t want to think about away, Dean?”

Dean glanced over at Castiel, he looked pained to Dean, desperate and depressed. Whatever it was that had happened with God had really hurt and upset Castiel. Dean grinned. “We’ll stop for a beer, before we stop for the night, Cas.”

Castiel nodded. “Alcohol. Yes, I’ll lower my tolerance so it will make a difference.”

“You can do that?”

Castiel shrugged. “Arch Angel’s can do anything they want when they have free will, I will do my best not to abuse the power though.”

Dean chuckled. “Nerdy guy with wings, figures you’re still a good boy, Cas.”

“I would like to get drunk, is that a good thing?”

“Hell, yeah,” Dean said, thinking he really was the wrong guy for Castiel to be asking such questions of. 

~~

Something about the bar they’d found reminded Dean about the Roadhouse, he found himself scanning the crowd looking Jo, listening for the husky laugh of Ellen and had to down his first few whiskeys faster than he meant too. Castiel wasn’t exactly drinking slow either, Dean had noticed as he went up the bar to get them both another round, thankful that the motel they’d already checked into was within walking distance. 

“Hello, again,” the female bartender said to him with a familiar twinkle in her eye and welcoming body language that Dean could recognize in his sleep. Out of habit, he looked her over, curvy, dark hair, blue eyes -- something in the combination turned him on more than he’d felt in a long while but something was off too. He just gave the order for two more neat whiskeys, pointedly ignoring her invitation for flirting.

She looked disappointed but then turned all business and went back to work, it probably didn’t happen to her often Dean figured but she wasn’t about to take it personally. He found he admired that. She came back, took his money and shook her head, her eyes somewhere behind him. “Hope your friend isn’t as out of depth as he looks,” she said with a slight laugh of amusement. 

Dean turned and his eyes landed on Castiel. Castiel, who already had huge round eyes, eyes were bugging out hugely, if Dean didn’t know it was impossible he’d expect them to pop out of their sockets. It was a look he’d seen before, when Dean had brought up the idea of getting Castiel laid, hooked the angel up with a hooker even in the hopes of it happening for the guy. It’d been a disaster. There were two people talking to Dean, a man and a woman, touching each other but both leaning too close to Castiel. “Fuck,” Dean muttered, he was being propositioned for a threesome. 

“Didn’t think so,” the bartender laughed.

Dean just waved at her, forgot their drinks and walked back to the table, unsure if he wanted to laugh, or haul the couple away and yell at them for trying to sully an angel -- it didn’t matter he’d tried once himself, he was allowed, he knew Cas. He purposely slammed half his body against the man, as he made his way to the seat next to Castiel and sat down. “What’s going on?” he asked, loudly, looking right at Castiel.

Castiel met him with his wide bugged out eyes, “This couple seems to want me to fornicate with them, Dean,” he said, his words formal but his voice’s tone was pleading and broken. 

Dean turned back to the couple, who were now both raking their eyes not only over Castiel but him leading Dean to want to get this over with really fast. “He’s not interested.”

“Are...” the woman started to asked.

“No.”

“Are you sur...”

“Yes. We’re both sure.”

The couple looked at each other and sighed, but then the woman pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Dean. “If you and you boyfriend ever change your mind, call us here.”

Dean took it just to get them to go away faster but said. “We won’t.” As the couple walked away, Dean couldn’t help but see the full absurdity of the situation. He started to laugh and looked back at Castiel. “I guess you just scream corrupt me, or something.”

Castiel swallowed and stared back at Dean. “They seemed very disappointed we weren’t interested.”

Dean shrugged. “To each their own, Cas.”

“Hi, thought I’d bring these over,” the bartender said, suddenly appearing with their drinks. 

Dean grinned at her. “Thanks.”

She smiled back. “Have a good night, they bother you guys again let me know -- we’ve had issues with them before, they only have one warning left.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Nah, it’s okay, he brings it out in people. Something about how innocent he looks.”

The waitress looked over at Castiel. “Yeah,” she said, with a flirty smile, and then walked away.

“She wants to fornicate with you.” Castiel offered, grabbing the glass of whiskey and downing it in one go.

“I know.”

“You don’t want to fornicate with her?”

“No.” Dean muttered leaning back in the chair, grabbing his whiskey but only taking a sip. 

“God fornicated with many prostitutes while he was hiding from us,” Castiel muttered, copying Dean’s stance and moving his chair into Dean’s space as he did so. 

Dean’s raised his eyebrows and met Castiel’s gaze. “Really?”

“Many. He paid for it.”

“Well, it was hookers, Cas.”

“He never slept with anyone else though, any one who seemed to like him for who he was pretending to be,” Castiel sighed. “I guess that shows some good character...”

Dean nodded. “Who was he pretending to be?”

Castiel sighed and held up his glass. “It’s empty.”

“I know.”

Castiel stared at the glass for a long while, then suddenly it was full of whiskey again.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean said.

“Don’t wanna move, I put money in the cash register for what I took from a bottle on the shelf they haven’t opened yet.”

“Sneaky,” Dean laughed, “But, then you’ve always had that in you.”

Castiel grinned at Dean, drunkenly. “I’m a sneaky bastard.”

“Yeah,” Dean grinned back, taking another small gulp of his whiskey.

Things went quiet, the rush and sound of the bar around them muted by the whiskey and Dean just sat, the chair pushed against the wall, his leg and Castiel’s touching in quiet. He started to feel the welcoming quiet rush of peace that happened whenever he and Castiel just stood outside Lisa’s house at that damn overgrown yew bush, Lisa loved for some stupid reason. They’d talk about Dean’s day for a bit, sometimes Castiel mentioned something or other about what was going on Heaven. Then they’d fall silent. Like now. But it was good, the quiet, Dean never was much for quiet with most people except Sam. Usually it felt awkward, uncomfortable like something needed to be said, like someone should be sharing something, or in a lot of cases like someone should be naked now if the conversation had ended. It never felt like that with Castiel, it was just nice, understood, and solid. Castiel was a solid, comforting presence next to him, Dean pushed his leg against Castiel a bit more just to feel the actual phyiscality of solid comfort a bit more. 

“Tactile,” Castiel mumured into his full whiskey glass, Dean had noticed that Castiel hadn’t let it get empty again but this seemed to the same one he’d filled thirty minutes ago. Knowing Cas was slowing down made him realize he was relieved by the fact -- hazily he wondered when he got worried in the first place. 

“What?” Dean said, realizing his mind had gone away from what Castiel had said.

“You’re very tactile. Always touching.”

Dean snorted. “Coming from Mr. What Is Personal Space, that’s funny. Real funny, Cas.”

Castiel leaned against him more, his breath whispered in Dean’s ear. “You don’t mind at the moment, though, do you, Dean,” he said his voice low, a gravel-laced whisper that made Dean’s breath stuttered in his lungs.

“Uh, no,” Dean admitted caught off guard. “You know what, Cas, it’s time for us to walk back to the motel and pass out,” Dean said, standing up on slightly wobbly legs. “Come on, man,” he held out his hand thinking if he felt off balance Castiel really would. 

Castiel put his glass down, then took his hand his palm hot and solid against Dean’s. Dean decided to not think about it and helped Castiel to his feet. Castiel surprised him by looking completely steady. “You sober?”

“Not yet, I think I’ll let it slowly happen the walk over.”

Dean shook his head. “No hangover for you then, lucky angel.”

“I could take care of that for you too?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Like being human.” 

Castiel smiled at him. “Me too, like you being you.”

 

Four

Castiel sat on the bed next Dean’s. Dean was snoring, a soft in and out sound that Castiel found he was matching his own breath too after thirty minutes ticked by, for some reason he liked it. He tried to focus on the comforting feeling it gave him, searching for the reason it gave him warmth in the pit of his stomach. But he found his mind kept wondering back to the things he didn’t want to think about -- or namely the thing he didn’t want to think about. His father, God, Chuck.

He’d had a brief amount of solace at the bar, letting both the alcohol and Dean’s companionship warm and dull his thoughts. He’d thought very little about how angry, hurt, betrayed, confused he felt by Chuck, at this revelation that his father had been hiding from him under his nose and never saying a word. That all the nice and comforting things Chuck had somehow said weren’t the insights of a slovenly human with alcohol always on his breath but his father. Why couldn’t he had said anything directly, why not help directly, why not do his job? He was their father, the creator, he set the destinies of everyone in action. Why so much pain, why so much abandonment?

Abandonment, the feeling of, was rippling off of Dean in waves. It was odd how it happened, Castiel thought, humans were so contradictory to the literal meanings of things. When Dean had thought Sam dead, he’d felt abandoned, but not nearly as much as he felt it now knowing his brother was alive. It was Sam’s choosing to not let Dean know. This was why Dean was taking his time, this was why Dean had looked on the Internet for two hours after they got back from the bar until he found a haunting. It was in Connecticut, taking them even further away from South Dakota than they were when they started. Dean felt like Sam didn’t want him and that was why he was avoiding him. Castiel knew that was wrong but he could offer no proof, he could offer Dean nothing because he didn’t quite understand why Sam was denying himself his brother. He’d seen Sam’s longing, felt it, felt the want and need to have Dean around driving him crazy -- he’d heard that thought clear as day, as Sam had lain on the cot clutching and staring at the amulet. 

The amulet. The amulet that should have told Castiel Chuck was God. Chuck hadn’t allowed it, he didn’t want to be found out so he wasn’t. Castiel growled. The noise startled him, it was too loud, a bit too angelic for this plane of existence, the motel shook with his anger and Dean sat up straight in the bed, his gun in his hand aiming right at Castiel with sharp eyes. 

“Fuck, Cas?” He didn’t sound as if he’d been asleep at all. “What the hell was that?”

“I let my anger get the best of me.”

Dean rolled his eyes, put the gun back under his pillow. “Told you your whole I’ll make myself sober idea sucked ass.”

“Maybe next time, I’ll heed your advice.”

Dean slouched down in his bed, not laying down but not sitting up either, and his body was twisted to face Castiel. He stayed there, just staring at Castiel for a long moment. “You don’t -- I mean, Cas you don’t have to sit there and wait for morning...” Dean licked his lips and looked away from Castiel and toward the ceiling. “You don’t even need to be here at all, you must have...”

Castiel cut Dean off, because he saw the truth, probably more clearly then Dean did. Dean figured Castiel was here because he felt he was obligated to be since he’d broken the news to Dean about Sam. Dean was thinking Castiel probably felt trapped and didn’t want to be in a motel room when he could be anywhere else. 

“Dean, I want to be here. I need to be here,” he said. He needed to be where he felt -- okay. Where he knew it was okay to want to be someone who made his own choices and felt what he felt. In heaven they had all judged him, wondered at him, thought he was being disrespectful, thought he was crazy -- he heard whispers, of how he loved the humans more than father. Humans? They all looked down on the humans, though they weren’t supposed too -- God had always said humanity special. Why couldn’t his kind see it? Why was he the only one? 

“You need to be in a cheap motel?”

“I don’t belong in Heaven. It was wrong to think I could help the others see what I have learned. Also -- God’s home now, I am not needed and I don’t wish to be.”

“What the hell did you find out, man?”

Castiel shook his head, he wasn’t ready to share the truth about Chuck with Dean. He needed to deal with his own issues with it, his own anger, his own confusion. Castiel settled himself back down on the bed. “Go back to sleep, Dean.”

Dean let himself fall into the pillows but his eyes stayed open and he stared at the ceiling. “I was dreaming about Sam.”

Castiel waited.

“We were kids, I don’t think he was more than five -- I’d taken him to get ice cream because he was upset Dad was gone. These women was cooing over him, I guess maybe me too but I didn’t notice that. I was just protective, nervous they’d call me on my bullshit line about my Dad being at work nearby and he said I could take my brother for an ice cream. I let him eat too much, he threw up the whole night. I never got any sleep.”

Castiel didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t quite sure what Dean’s point was, besides the fact that he missed his brother.

“He doesn’t want to see me.” Dean said.

“That is untrue.” Castiel offered, since he knew it to be a fact.

Dean sighed. “Actions, Cas. He’s choosing to not see me...” bitterness laced Dean’s voice, but Castiel felt the wave of abandonment, fear, sadness that was it’s under current and marveled at how much he wanted to take it away from Dean -- for Dean. 

“This is why you are choosing to not see him?”

Dean laughed, it was empty. “Oh, we’ll get to Bobby’s, I’ll hug him, man, Cas, I’m going to hold onto him so fucking tight. Then, then I think I might punch him in the face a few times.”

Castiel could see it. 

“I just, I need time.”

Castiel couldn’t stop him. “Perhaps that is what Sam is thinking too.”

“No. He’s got all kinds of stupid on his side.”

~~

Time went on. Castiel sat on the covers of the other bed, listening to Dean’s breathing, his soft snoring and realized hours into the moment that he was watching Dean sleep. Staring, really, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the way air pushed out of his lips now again, moving the full flesh minutely -- only an angel could see it, and smile softly when it was Dean’s nose that took over causing the soft snuffly snore. He was counting Dean’s facial freckles without meaning too, stopping when he realized he was starting to go down his neck. Castiel tore his eyes away from Dean, looked out the dirty window to the parking lot, to the car. 

He liked Dean in ways that were confusing to him. He’d never felt like this before, he’d once had a crush on Anna. It’d been an angel crush, a good solider who had a crush on his brilliant superior. She’d been different, like him -- or he had thought so at the time. She’d like the humans, he liked the humans, they’d talk about the things they saw that they found admirable, they’d wonder about the things they saw that they’d didn’t find admirable at all -- they’d talked a lot. He’d yearned for those quiet conversations, and after Anna’s fall he’d missed them in a way that Uriel had once condescendingly compared to whiny human grief. 

Dean, how he felt to Dean was like that, comfortable silence, easy conversation, even when they disagreed it was easy -- he felt allowed to disagree with Dean. Something an angel didn’t feel, because they weren’t meant to disagree. If they did, they prayed about it, they followed orders. When Anna had fallen he’d felt betrayed, she’d never said she wanted to be a human -- Castiel didn’t understand it...not then. He never really wanted to be human, he liked being angel, but he would never regret finding his own mind. Dean had shown him how, make it up as you go, make your own choices, follow what you know is right in your gut -- no matter how fucking hard that course of action may turn out to be. In the end it’s worth it. 

Dean. Castiel cast his gaze back to Dean, sleeping, snoring, but not a peace. His eyeballs were moving, R.E.M. sleep, the dream wasn’t Hell, Castiel would wake him if he started dreaming of Hell, or send him into a deeper dreamless sleep. This was another nightmare, another anxiety ridden memory or subconscious creation about Sam. He could hear Dean’s thoughts, Sam, stay, please, don’t go, don’t leave me... Sam, take care of him, keep him safe, Sam, Sam, alive but doesn’t want me. 

Castiel closed his eyes, he’d been thinking about Anna, the betrayal he’d felt then. It’d been so soft in comparison to the betrayal he’d felt when he thought Dean was going to give into Michael. He’d hit Dean, harder than he should, harder than most human men could take, Dean had taken it though -- Dean had thought he’d deserved it. For a moment, in his hurt, in his anger, at only seeing himself betrayed by the man he gave up everything for, turned his back on his kind for, had opened himself to listening to his own inner compass for. When he’d been hitting Dean he’d only seen his hurt, his anger, his emptiness that Dean hadn’t been worthy. For a brief moment Castiel had thought Dean deserved what Dean thought he deserved.

He’d been so wrong, if flickered away in one look from Dean on the ground bloody. It flickered away and Castiel had wondered how he could ever think that, even for a second. It was the craziness of being human, sometimes you thought something in a moment that felt like truth but was a lie. 

What he felt for Dean was miles more than whatever glimmer of a crush he’d on Anna was...what he felt for Dean Castiel was afraid to name. He had to stop staring at Dean, he’d wake him up, Castiel knew it was irrational but sometimes he swore Dean could feel more than just his eyes on him but the thoughts that went with them.

Comparing betrayals, seemed to be his theme of thought so he decided to let himself think about Chuck as compared to Dean. The anger and betrayal he felt his father right now didn’t feel equal to the anger he’d felt at Dean when Dean had been so broken he’d thought he had to say yes to Michael. But it hurt as hard, different but as hard. He felt ripped at, raw about it, he felt like he’d put in his faith in one thing and then found out it was something else entirely. God was supposed to be bigger than life, his father, his creator, with his mysterious but important and just ways.

But Castiel had known Prophet Chuck Shurley. He’d known him, seen his good inner heart, seen his need to want to please, his fear, his nervousness, his want of love but his settling for empty sex. He knew this construct...but how much was construct, what was really his father. He’d put his hand on his shoulder when he’d shown up, days too late and taken the side of humanity -- of Dean. Chuck had put his hand on his shoulder, and Castiel had felt pride, and shot it down in a glare. Why would a human, even a Holy Prophet had pride in him. Chuck had accepted the glare, but the feeling of pride hadn’t vanished, but it’d felt like Chuck, it had a sense of this angel I’ve been writing about has learned what I know. Dean Winchester is right. 

Chuck’s books always had the familiarity to the words, the love for Sam and Dean infused in them, that this was their story -- they were meant to have a good ending because they would make the right choices. The hard choices, because that was their path but the right choices.

Castiel had liked Chuck. He’d been fond of him. He’d like his stories. He’d reread Route 666 more than he’d ever admit, with a mix of want and jealousy. Cassie Robinson was a woman he’d like to meet, he’d like to ask. How could you turn down Dean? Castiel had he found never found it in him, angel grace and all, to say no to Dean -- not for long. 

Castiel sighed, his thoughts were muddling together. He had no answers. He had no idea if his father was anything like the Chuck he knew or an all together different personality. Talking to Chuck would be the only way to know now and Castiel found he really didn’t want to do that -- yet. It was the yet that confused him most, he wanted to be angry, stay away, not look back. Castiel kept looking back toward his father. 

~~

Dean liked his coffee sweet. He liked his eggs salty. And he needed bacon about as much as he needed caffiene to wake up in the morning. He spotted a diner that promised homey breakfast and pulled into the parking lot. He looked to Castiel, wondering again just why Castiel was staying with him. Going along with this road trip, not once had he said anything about going to Sam. Anyone else Dean could picture in that seat wouldn’t be keeping quiet. Bobby would be telling him to face his brother, not listening to his excuses or and telling him his hurt feelings made him a whiny idjit. Sam -- because lets face it Sam and Bobby were the only people he could picture in the passenger seat besides Cas -- Sam would be telling him that he should face what he is feeling, tell Sam how hurt he was and make him understand how much he needs his brother. All chick flick and mushy. It pissed Dean off, knowing his brother who was the damn fucking reason he was avoiding going toward South Dakota’s own advice on the subject was something he wasn’t following. 

Twisted, Dean thought, opening the door. “You going to try food?” he asked, Castiel. He always asked Castiel when they’d gone to diners in the past, and with the exception of the time with Famine, Castiel had just given him an odd look and said, No.

“Yes.”

Dean looked up surprised. “Really?”

“I’ve been wanting too, since before -- I want too try food. I like alcohol. Will they have pie?”

Dean grinned. “I hope so,” he thought he could definitely make room for pie after his eggs and bacon. 

“I’d like to try pie.”

Dean grinned again, this was awesome, he was going to be able to introduce his... Dean faltered, it always felt weird to think of Castiel as his friend, he’d never really had friends before. He had Dad, Sam and then he’d turned to Bobby and Bobby had become Bobby -- father-like, friend-like, but all wrapped up with this feeling of family that made Dean equate him with Sam and Dad. Cas was...Cas was Cas. He wasn’t family, but he was important. “We’ll start you with Apple, even if this place only has okay pie, the apple should still show you why Pie is one of the best human inventions. We’ll do it for dessert.”

Dean led them into the diner, picked out a table, the waitress was a young pretty barely twenty-year old brunette with butterfly tattoos wrists and angel wings on her back, poking out behind her summer tank top. Castiel’s eyes fell to the angel wings, his eyes wide, and Dean laughed, turned it into a flirty smile and gave her his best hello. 

“Hey, Ellie.” Dean read her tag, “We’re both going need coffee, eggs scrambled, bacon on the side and then a piece of apple pie with ice cream on top.”

She glanced at Castiel, then back to Dean, and gave Dean a wink. “Sure thing.”

As she walked away, Castiel followed her, his eyes on the tattoo. “Why would she want wings on her back?”

Dean laughed. “Humans think you guys are cool, if they only knew what dicks most of you are.”

“But her other tattoos aren’t angels.”

“Maybe she likes all winged creature. Probably as a wing kink, you should flirt.”

Castiel stared at Dean. “She’s nineteen years old Dean, she likes the boy who lives across the street from her, but he thinks of her as a kid sister. Her heart breaks every time she sees him.”

Dean shook his head, sometimes Castiel was just too serious. “You got all that but you still don’t know why she has angel wings on her back?”

“I couldn’t sense a reason, some of the things you humans do I do not understand. Why mar your flesh? Unless it’s for protective reasons, of course,” Castiel’s eyes fell to the exact point where Dean’s protective tattoo was inked into his chest. 

Dean felt the weight of the gaze on his skin, even through the layer of his t-shirt and shifted somewhat in his seat. “It’s, uh, what would Sammy say.... An expression of individuality, a way for people to express who they are. Granted she may someday regret the things she chose to put on her skin permanently at nineteen but she’s just expressing herself Cas.”

Dean watched as Castiel seemed to be taking in what he was saying. “Back in Heaven, the other angels looked at me as if I was a new creature, not an angel. They didn’t understand why I kept my vessel -- I kept trying to explain how it was my choice because this feels like me, but they didn’t understand. Perhaps my body is like a tattoo?”

“You don’t feel trapped in there? I mean Jimmy said it was like riding a comet, man.”

“No, I feel right here.” Castiel said. 

Dean nodded. “Good to like your own skin.”

Castiel frowned. “Do you not like the handprint?”

Dean started at the question, it felt out of left field to him, but his brain instantly connected how it could be related to the conversation they were having. He shook his head. “I, uh, I didn’t. It was weird, you know, to know this dick angel who is ordering me around grabbed me out of hell and left this brand.”

Castiel’s hand started to reach out across the table. “I can take it away,”

Dean flinched, moving away from the hand. “No!” 

Castiel’s hand fell. “You don’t want it removed.”

“No,” Dean said, feeling his cheeks heat up and he knew he was blushing but he wasn’t sure why, he wasn’t sure he could explain this and he sighed in relief when Ellie showed up with their coffee. 

“Two coffees, here are some creamers, your breakfast should be up soon.”

“Thanks Ellie,” Dean said.

Castiel let his hand fall to the table and picked up his fork. Dean watched Castiel, stare at his eggs and bacon for a long while then look up back at Dean, who was just leaning back and watching. “I don’t recall ever seeing you use a fork on bacon?”

“Hell no, I just use my hands there,” Dean laughed, reaching out and taking a strip of bacon between his fingers, then munching on it. “Hmm, this is how to wake up.”

“You’ve been awake for an hour.”

“Not really, been on auto pilot, Cas, never really awake until I’ve had bacon and coffee.” He grabbed his mug, and poured in sugar, then one creamer. “This is the stuff,” he said after a drink. “This is good coffee, some places serve tasteless crap.”

Castiel reached out and took a strip of bacon, Dean watched how carefully Castiel’s slender fingers held the piece of meat, followed them as they went up to Castiel’s mouth and half the bacon disappeared between full lips. Dean swallowed his second bite of his own bacon and made himself look away and dig into his eggs after liberally salting them. 

“Hmm.”

“Good, huh,” Dean said with a smile looking up at Cas. 

Castiel nodded back as he stuffed the rest of the bacon into his mouth.

 

~~~

Dean smirked as Castiel eyed his empty plate of pie. Cas had scarfed if down after his first bite, the warm apply goodness, the ice cold vanilla ice cream and of all things he’d gotten an ice cream headache that had him whimpering at Dean in pain. Considering how strong and gifted a fighter Dean knew Castiel was it had made Dean break out in laughter that had had most of the diner looking over at them. 

Now though, Castiel was recovered from his brain freeze and staring at his empty plate. Dean had pulled out his lap top and was searching for a hunt, something anything to kill, but that didn’t mean he’d let his friend down. “Hey, Ellie? Another pie over here?” he yelled out, seeing her a few booths down.

“Sure thing,” she called back.

“Dean, I am quite okay, you don’t need too.”

“Dude, you want pie, you get pie.” Dean said with a smile. “Good ain’t it.”

“Yes. It is quite, the horrible sharp pain in my head was very worth it.”

“Just eat the ice cream slower this time.”

Castiel said with utmost seriousness. “Yes. I will eat the ice cream more slowly this time.”

Dean bent his face closer to the screen, so as not to laugh directly at the angel’s face. Cas, always seemed to take it in stride but still, he’d already done the laughing in Cas’s face thing for the day. An article from the Hartford Courant, caught Dean’s eyes, having cued up from Dean’s hunt-worded Google search. 

“Yahtzee,” he said.

“Come on Cas, we’ll get that pie to go, we have a hunt to get too.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on the Interstate on their way to Connecticut. Dean could feel the distance between him and Sam growing the further away from South Dakota he drove. A part of him wanted to whip the car around, find someone else to check out what he was pretty sure was a vengeful spirit and just get to his brother. 

But he didn’t. As much as he wanted too, he equally wanted to keep going forward, to just breathe, in a way he hadn’t for months, to have no one expecting anything from him -- not Lisa, not Ben, not Sam. Castiel was next to him, eating pie with his fingers of all things out of the bag. Castiel hadn’t said a word about the hunt and how much further it was going to take Dean from Sam. Castiel didn’t expect Dean to be anything but what he was. 

 

Five

 

Dean already regretted deciding to wear his suit for this, Dad had always managed to be whoever he said he was without a suit, but no Sam and he had to dress up for it, fit the part more, make it more believable. And here he was without Sam, doing something Sam had started. It was because Dad didn’t let him participate in enough school plays, Dean was sure of it. He shook his head, trying not to picture Sam’s smug face, pushing away the dual feelings of wanting to rush to him and wanting to beat him. It was time to focus on business, Dean checked his tie in the reflection of the windows on the porch, of a really rundown house, it made Bobby’s place look new. 

A kid, that the newspaper and police report had stated was sixteen but looked a lot younger to Dean opened the door. He had a few bruises on the right side of his face, and a huge cast around his right forearm. “Yeah?”

“Hi, I’m John Bonham, I’m a freelance reporter. I heard about the odd accidents out here, thought maybe I could ask some questions?”

The kid’s eyes went dark for a second, his head looking down. “Look, my brothers friend died so...”

Grief, Dean sucked at this. He never knew what to say, he knew how it cut through a person, raw and ragged. It didn’t much matter who had died, when it was fresh and when it was sudden and accidental. He’d seen a hell of a lot of the crappy ways people dealt with it on cases. None of them seemed the way to go to him, but he wasn’t one to talk. He either made pathetic deals or stupid promises. Hell, he knew Sam was okay but he still felt like he was grieving, running from his brother instead of toward him, for reasons he really didn’t understand. Because as much as he wanted to go to Sam, and the urge was getting stronger every minute, he wanted to run further away. 

“We don’t even need to mention him in the article, we could just start with some questions?”

“I guess, I’m Jeremy Adamson.”

Dean took out his notebook. “Right, and your brother is Jason?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

Jeremy shuffled his feet. “It was, it was night. My friend, Brian and I heard this weird noise out back, where the old shed used to be. It’s mostly demolished now.”

“Right. Why are you taking it down?”

“My Uncle Roy used to own this place, he died recently, gave it to me and my brother. We’re fixing it up, but the old shed was just a bunch of wood he put up for some reason, stored all this junk he never used in there. It’s just all rotted and stuff, wasn’t worth saving, Jason said.”

“This uncle, you know him well?”

“No. He sent us some money once, when our parents first died, then did nothing for us?”

“Roy was a bastard. Who are you?” 

Dean looked up to see Jason, the older brother, only twenty and had custody of his kid brother. He put his arm around Jeremy’s shoulder and pushed the kid further into the house, then moved in front of him. “Go inside.”

“He was just asking questions.”

“Jeremy, now.”

Jeremy stomped off, in a way that had Dean seeing Sam at sixteen -- all grumpy and put out at not being treated as an adult. He had to blink, but the deja vu was in full force the minute he met Jason Adamson’s eyes. 

They were wary, scared, his arms were crossed defensively against his chest. “He’s only sixteen, he just saw his friend get his head cracked open -- he’s lucky Brian’s alive.” There it was again, grief, Dean thought, this guys friend had died, watching out for Jeremy for him. 

“I’m sorry about your friend, I just was interested in what happened. The reports were pretty sketchy.”

“It was an accident, in the dark, around a bunch broken, shredded, rotted wood. And I don’t think anyone needs to be writing anything more about it,” Jason snapped. “Stay away from my brother, we have enough to deal without stupid folks trying to make a buck on nothing.”

The door was already closing but Dean didn’t try to stop it, he’d been this kid. Shutting the door on people trying to sell things, doing whatever he could to stop school teachers, or worse social service workers from getting into a place they lived. Mistrusting anyone who knocked on the door, because they might try to take him and Sam away from Dad, or worse away from each other. Turning away from the door, he felt like an idiot.

 

Castiel was leaning against the Impala, his hands in his coat pockets, like it wasn’t a warm day in early summer when Dean made his way back to the car after introducing himself to the Adamsons. 

“It did not go well.” Castiel stated. Dean rolled his eyes, damn angel didn’t even bother to ask him how it went, just told him he already knew it went bad, worse than bad. Dean ran a hand over his face. “I think I handled it wrong.”

“The brother is protective.”

Dean pulled at his tie, shirked off his suit jacket, he was hot and uncomfortable and pissed off at himself for being so stupid. “Yeah, I should’ve...”

“How could you have known how the boy would react, Dean?” Castiel was actually confused, his head had tilted, he was staring at Dean as if he was trying to pull the answers out of him. 

“Because, Cas, I am that boy. Any strangers in suits showed up when Sammy was a teenager, I was on guard, I was protective, I lied, I made up shit. Anything so no one would know how often we were on our own. And that kid in there, he is on his own, he’s working his ass off to keep that kid in school and probably fighting people tooth and nail to legally keep him. Going in as a reporter saying I want to cover the weird accidents... bad move. Dumb move.” 

“I see.” Castiel glanced up at the old house. “What do we do now?”

“Look into his Uncle. I got out of the younger kid that their Uncle Roy gave them the house when he died. Jason seemed to think he was a bastard, I have a feeling this uncle wasn’t a good guy. That vengeful spirit you keep sniffing, that’s got to be related to Uncle Roy.”

“I don’t really smell them, Dean.”

“Well, you ain’t seeing it either are you.”

“No. It’s just a sense, angry, new.”

“New?”

“Awoken. Something woke the spirit up.”

“They are knocking down an old shed the uncle built, probably out back there,” Dean pointed towards the back of the yard of the house, that lead into a thick woods. “Right by the trees. One of the things we’ll be looking up in the library,” Dean looked at his watch.

“You’re worried about time?”

“I want to be back here before the sun goes down. This son of bitch already killed a friend theirs, injured Jeremy -- broken arm, and a friend of his apparently got his head cracked open.” Dean sighed, it wasn’t enough, he’d screwed up.

“People make mistakes, Dean. The sun will set in exactly five hours, thirty-two minutes and 44 seconds,”

“Huh,” Dean said. “We better get researching then, hopefully when we get back here we’ll know where to look for bones.” Dean stopped mid-motion and held the door to the Impala open. “Seriously, sunset time on command, don’t know where the bones are?”

Castiel shrugged. “It’s a spirit Dean, it is commanded by different laws than you or me. I can only sense what I can, in it’s presence I may be able to tell you more.”

“Great, I have a bad feeling that’s going to happen,” Dean grumbled and got in the car, Castiel followed and Dean took off speeding more than was really necessary because the two kids, in the rundown house had hit a nerve. He wasn’t going to let anything else happen to them.

 

~~

Dean had a headache. He leaned back in his seat, his knees hitting the steering wheel of the Impala and groaned. “I have a headache,” the palm of his hand, pressing against his eyes. 

“Then pressing your palm into your eye sockets seems an odd thing to do?” Castiel said.

Dean groaned. “Cas.” Sometimes Cas was just annoying, especially when he had a headache and felt like he was failing at what should be a simple hunt. He felt far too rusty for a few months of a break, it bothered him, more than he could really express. 

“Dean we have information we just need to piece together the puzzle.”

Dean sighed. “Right. We have a few sketchy articles.”

“We have a engagement announcement of Lena Harold and Roy Adamson, then we have the postponement announcement. I think we can surmise she is the vengeful spirit.”

“There is nothing else on a Lena Harold, she could be alive. Whoever is buried out there could be anyone, hell for all we know it might not even be bones anchoring the spirit.”

Castiel made a noise that sounded a bit like a growl. Dean lifted his hand off his eyes, blinked Cas into focus and glared. “What?”

“Your petulance is started to get trying.”

“My petulance?”

Cas sighed. “Dean, I don’t pretend to know human feelings but I do know you. You are feeling sorry for yourself.”

Dean sighed and slumped down more in his seat. He wanted to be angry, he should be angry, anyone else said that to him, even Sam, he’d be pissed. He’d be pissed off and get contrary and show them how wrong they were. And the actions he should be doing hit him and groaned. “Fuck. You’re right. I just... I have no excuse,” Dean muttered, even as a bevy of reasons floated through his mind as to why he’d let himself fall into a funk since talking to the Adamsons. “Come on, we have work to do,” he said, opening the door.

Castiel met him at the trunk, waiting for Dean to get what he needed in patient silence. Dean pulled out his EMF, a flashlight and a loaded shotgun full of salt rounds. He tested it to make sure it was in working order, then walked onto the Adamson’s property, toward the back where the partially demolished shed could be found. 

Castiel was behind him, silent, stealthier than him, but Dean could feel him at his back. It was a good feeling, only thing better would be if Sam was around too. Soon, Dean thought, maybe sooner than he was fully ready for, he thought idly before pushing Sam out of his thoughts for the millionth time that day. 

Dean frowned when he saw lights wired around the outside of the half demolished shed for light, and Jason Adamson with a crowbar, trying to pry out more wood to tear down the remains of the building. Damn it, kid was going to get himself killed. Backing behind some bushes for cover, Dean sighed and glanced at Castiel.

“Cas, you picking up anything more, you’re closer.”

“No. But the spirit is here, she’s angry, but she’s still.”

“What she waiting for?”

“I’m not sure if she can move yet, some spirits are trapped to certain time intervals.”

“After midnight?”

“That would be most likely.”

Dean sighed, glanced at his watch, two hours. He just hoped the kid finished up before midnight and would go inside. His palms felt sweaty, his heart pounded, he was as nervous as he’d been on his first hunt, yet oddly less confident. Youth, he thought wryly, it had its perks. 

Castiel’s hand landed on Dean’s shoulder, Dean looked up and met Castiel’s hard stare. Blue eyes that saw into Dean in a way Dean thought he should be uncomfortable with, but the fact was he wasn’t. He was comfortable with inscrutable stares from a being who could read his mind because that being was Cas. That was what felt uncomfortable at times. Dean swallowed. “What?”

“Your nervousness is confusing. You are well trained, experienced. You are a hunter, Dean.”

Hunter. He wanted that title again, he’d given it up because Sam had wanted a life for him that wasn’t constantly putting himself in the line of fire. Sam had wanted him to get apple pie and picket fences. Dean had wanted it too, something stable, something he could count on to never change...but it wasn’t apple pie and picket fences he really needed. He’d thought about hunting every day at Lisa’s, of finding a way to pull Sam out of the Pit without freeing Lucifer. The minute Castiel told him Sam was alive, after the shock, after the joy, one of his first non-Sam related thoughts had been, ‘I can hunt again.‘ Yet here he was acting like a scared civilian who’d just been told monsters exist and seen the their soulless black eyes. 

Holding Castiel’s gaze he shrugged because he had no answer why he was so nervous. Why he felt so useless, why he was so afraid he was going to let Jason Adamson down. Dean looked way from Castiel, couldn’t stand seeing the patience and understanding another minute and shook his head. “Cas, I can’t...”

“It is okay, Dean, there is no reason to speak. We will wait, we will do our job here.”

Dean wanted to believe him, but his hands were shaking and he just didn’t understand it. 

~~ 

Castiel could feel time moving slowly over Dean and himself, he could sense the veil between the world he was in and the spirit’s thinning with each quiet second. Dean was beside him, crouched in the ground behind a bush, shaking inside. Castiel was confused by the anxiousness, he’d only sensed it in Dean once before. The days before Dean almost said yes to Michael. Only it was different now, it wasn’t about the actual world being on Dean’s shoulders, it wasn’t about wanting to protect Sam at all costs, yet the reasons were similar. Dean saw himself and his brother in the boys they were protecting. 

Castiel watched Dean watch the older boy Jason, tearing apart what was left of wood, pushed into hard earth, tearing a part a really poorly made shed. It’s poor workmanship was why it was so hard to tear apart, no nail had been put in straight, no piece of wood measured correctly. 

Castiel sensed a disturbance, yet it was human and not spirit. Jason Adamson swore, dropping the crowbar he held and swore again. It seems he’d cut himself on the wood then dropped the heavy object on his foot. Dean stiffened beside him, Castiel put his hand on Dean’s bicep to stop him from giving away their position. “It is just a cut, and some, I believe you call it human klutziness.”

Dean glanced at him, then at the boy who was swearing under his breath still but seemed to be okay. “Maybe, he’ll go inside then, it’s almost midnight.”

Castiel nodded and wondered again why he never felt a psychic ability from Dean, he always seemed to know the passing of time, he always had a sharp instinct of what was wrong or right about his cases, or a person. Dean was unusual, he found himself thinking again fondly. 

Instead however it seemed they were going to have another person to protect. Castiel heard the backdoor the small house open, Dean beside him swore, “Son of bitch, stupid little brothers.”

“Jason, you okay?” Jeremy called out making his way toward the shed. 

“Yeah, just dropped the damn crowbar on my foot. Since you’re here help me clean up.”

Midnight was seconds away. Dean groaned next to him and tightened his hold on the shotgun, carefully loaded with rock salt, he held. The veil between spirit and them opened completely, Castiel instantly saw the spirit. “It’s Lena Harold.”

“See where she’s buried.”

Castiel sighed, knowing Dean wouldn’t like his answer. “Right where the boys are standing. Specifically under the younger boys left foot.”

Dean gripped the gun even tighter, but Castiel didn’t think it was at his information. It was at the sudden shift in temperature they could feel even from their hiding place. Castiel watched as the ghost became visible to the human eyes around him. 

“Shit,” Dean muttered but he was gone from Castiel’s side, stalking fast and determined toward the boys. 

Jason and Jeremy had frozen for a moment at the sight of the ghost, but then Jason had grabbed his brother, pushing him off to the side but not getting himself out of her line of danger.

“Must pay,” the ghost screamed, her voice pure rage. 

Castiel stood and started toward the shed, as Dean shot the ghost with rock salt without missing a beat, stopping her from harming Jason without seconds to spare. “Inside, take them inside.” Dean yelled.

Castiel acted, he gathered the two boys and desposited them in their living room. They stared at him with wide eyes, Jason, grabbing his brother. ‘Are you okay?”

“No, you pushed me onto my arm, you jerk!” Jeremy yelled back.

“The break is still healing,” Castiel offered. “Stay inside. Where it is safe.”

“Who...”

Castiel left before the rest of the question, though he did hear it finished. He knew how to answer for Dean, he wasn’t sure what he would call himself. Dean was a hunter, Castiel was -- lost. Again. 

He reappeared at Dean’s side, to see him shoot her again. “Can you mojo the bones?” Dean asked, “She’s fast.” At Dean’s words she’d already reappeared to his left, he moved quickly and shot her again. 

Castiel went to where the bones had been discarded by the Adamson’s Uncle years ago, and covered with an ugly shed. He marveled at what humans did to hide their secrets in plain sight. He held his hands out palms flat and said the prayer of rest in Enochian. Lena Harold appeared one more time, but before she could scream, try to hurt Dean, or be shot with rock salt she blazed way in a quick blast of white light. 

Dean let the shot gun fall to his side, straight against his leg and he turned back to Castiel and grinned. “Awesome!"

 

Six

Their in a place called IHOP, Castiel couldn’t quite understand what hopping had to do with breakfast food that was served at all hours of a human day, but Dean was happily tucking into his bacon and eggs, and smiling at the two Adamson brothers. Jason and Jeremy had been too wired to sleep, too confused to sleep also, Castiel thought. Jason had insisted that his words of thanks were not enough and offered to take them to this place that hops. Dean had said yes immediately complete with a rumble in his stomach that Castiel knew noted that a human was hungry.

Castiel lifted a bite of the bacon omelette he had ordered, and noted its taste, immediately he felt thankful to his father for giving him the gift of human taste and freewill with his grace. It was short lived, because then Castiel remembered who his father was and his past inactions and he felt angry. He dropped the fork to the plate and started to push around the omelette, trying to focus on the conversation around him, on the contentment he could feel emanating from Dean on a job well done. 

Dean had thought he was failing, it was good to see him proven wrong, it was good to see him content. He’d never felt this sense of satisfaction from Dean before and Castiel found it was the perfect distraction he needed from not thinking about his father, Chuck.

 

Or maybe not. Castiel pushed more of the omelette around and once again tried to focus on the conversation. 

“Is Bigfoot real?”

“No. Can’t believe everything you hear, kid. Ghosts, yeah, a lot of other creatures of the night but the stories most people know are full of lies,” Dean said to Jeremy a smile on his face, though Castiel noticed Dean wasn’t really giving any details. As usual Dean was playing protector not wanting Jeremy to know too much of the darkness in the world.

“And you and he,” Jason pointed with the knife he was using on his steak -- he’d been the only one not to order breakfast -- at Castiel. “You and him fight ghosts and other things?” 

“How do you get into that?” Jeremy asked with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Jason yelled, “You don’t!” At the same time Dean shook his head at Jeremy and said, “Well, you don’t really choose it.”

“Why not?” Jeremy asked his brother, then he turned to Dean. “What do you mean?”

Jason was staring at Dean, pleading with him with entire body not encourage his brother. Castiel noted how Dean gave Jason a look that said don’t worry with barely a change in his facial expression before he answered Jeremy.

“It’s not something most people choose, because how you find out about ghosts and things -- usually not a happy story.”

“You mean like Ted dying,” Jason said, his eyes clouding. 

Dean nodded. “It doesn’t pay, you don’t have a home, it’s not easy.” Castiel saw how he was pointedly looking at Jeremy. “I don’t reccomend it.”

“But you save people. You saved us,” Jeremy said, staring at Dean with awe, like he had been since he and Castiel had walked back into the house. He kept leveling the same stare at Castiel too, but had yet to ask just what Castiel was. Castiel found he hoped he wouldn’t. They might ask about Chuck. 

“And you, you aren’t human,” Jeremy said, as if right on cue, Castiel dropped his fork on his plate. 

“No, I am not.”

Jason bristled a bit but not too much, glancing at Dean, Castiel felt the memory of how Castiel had saved them flutter through his mind. “So not all creatures are evil?”

Dean sighed. “Cas, is special. Most creatures are just plain evil, or dicks.”

Jeremy laughed. Jason glanced at Castiel again. “What are you?” he asked. 

Castiel sighed. “I am an Arch Angel.”

“But most angels are total dicks. God too,” Dean said, as he cleaned off his plate. 

“I agree,” Castiel said, and it made Dean look at him, hard and appraising. Castiel had found as usual his eyes latching onto Dean’s stare but he had to look away. 

“But you aren’t,” Jeremy said the hero worship evident. “You saved us.”

“Like I said, Cas is special. Though he can be a dick too.”

Castiel looked up, unable to stop himself from glaring at Dean. 

Dean grinned.

Castiel found himself amused. 

“I think you’re both awesome!” The teenager declared, digging back into his own omelette.

Castiel looked down at his, it tasted good but he could taste because of Chuck and he was mad at Chuck and...this train of thought was getting him nowhere. He looked up and saw Dean eyeing his plate, then him and he saw the look of concern. The knowledge in Dean’s eyes that something was wrong. Castiel sighed and pushed the plate across the table. “Want it?”

Dean eyed the omelette and then shrugged. “Sure. It looked like you liked it?”

Castiel sighed again. “I do.”

“Then?”

“Dean.” Castiel said.

Dean seemed to understand, he pulled the plate completely over and started to eat. 

Castiel decided to preoccupy himself by reading the people at the table around him. Dean was content, he was seeing himself and Sam in the brothers, his thoughts going to Bobby’s and Castiel realized their journey was about to begin in earnest. He went to the two brothers. Jeremy continued to stare with hero worship, and Jason wavered from his own gratitude and worrying about his little brother wanting to hunt down ghosts and God -- Chuck, Castiel thought with more anger -- knew what else. 

~~

“Do, you, uh,” Dean said, looking awkward despite how his hands worked with grace and ease cleaning the shotgun he’d used at the Adamsons. 

Castiel stared at Dean before realizing what he was trying to do and he smiled. “I don’t want to share, Dean, no.”

Dean nodded, his focus returning to the gun though it didn’t need to be there, Castiel could sense both relief but also worry. Worry for him, Castiel thought he should maybe feel some shame at how good that felt but he couldn’t manage it. “Cas?” Dean said and looked up at him, capturing his gaze. Dean’s eyes were clear and obvious in their concern. 

Castiel sighed. “I do not wish to burden you.” He did not say that he wasn’t ready yet to have Dean share his anger. He wanted to be anger at his father alone, it was his father after all. Dean already had anger at God, anyway, Castiel felt no need to add to it. He was rationalizing, he realized. 

“It wouldn’t be,” Dean said.

Castiel nodded because he knew that was true but he wasn’t going to tell Dean, not yet. “You are content after killing the spirit.”

“You killed it,” Dean said but he smiled nevertheless. “It was...I’d forgotten.” Dean started to put the gun back together. “It was good to just simply help a family.”

Castiel nodded. “It is your true calling.”

Dean snorted. “I like it, but it ain’t a calling. Ain’t no priest, Cas.”

Castiel couldn’t stop his grin at that thought. “You are a righteous man, Dean Winchester but you do not hold the purity for that calling. No.”

“Damn straight,” Dean said, meeting Castiel’s eyes.

Something changed when their eyes locked, the air felt heavy against Castiel, he felt like the tie around his neck was constricting. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, it happened a lot if Castiel was honest but this time felt different. Heavier and even lighter at the same time. Dean licked his lips, Castiel watched the action wishing he could slow it down, even as it seemed to take longer than possible for Dean’s tongue to disappear again into his mouth. 

Castiel swallowed and thought, Dean would break the stare soon, he always did. He often wondered what might happen if Dean’s cheeks didn’t start to flush pink, if Dean didn’t look away and change their silence to something less heated and simply comfortable. 

There was a sudden loud click in the room, it made Castiel jump in his skin, even as he realized it was Dean pushing the last piece of the gun into place. Dean seemed startled by the sound as well, but he didn’t move his gaze away from Castiel. Castiel matched it, enjoying the moment while he could, he’d long ago accepted that he was more than merely fond of Dean. He wanted Dean. He’d never searched Dean for even a small inclination of the same, he hadn’t want to be disappointed. So he stared and waited for Dean to look away, to make a crack about his staring, and he forced himself to stay standing where he was. He didn’t want a crack about personal space but he did want to be closer. His hands curled in against the trench coat, the fabric feeling oddly rough against the tips of his fingers. 

Dean stood up, but he didn’t break eye contact much to Castiel’s surprise. Castiel forced himself to remain still, feeling for the first time like maybe he should stop the staring contest before Dean did. He felt afraid but also there was anticipation, he stopped his mind from searching out to see what Dean was thinking -- he was terrified to know but he wanted too, he really wanted to know what was about to happen. 

Dean was walking toward him, Castiel watched in fascination, his heart -- because he’d chosen a human form with most of its quirks -- hammering in his chest in a way that almost hurt but didn’t. It was promising him something, Castiel thought. He hoped it wasn’t a lie. As the fear flickered across his mind, Dean reached him, his hand grabbed Castiel’s tie and he pulled. Castiel was inside Dean’s personal space, space Dean had grumbled about wanting for himself more than once until Castiel had finally found a way to keep himself out of it. But now he was inside surrounded by Dean’s heat, pulled into that heat by Dean, and Castiel licked his lips because his mouth had never felt so dry. 

“Shit,” Dean whispered before he crashed his lips against Castiel’s. 

A kiss. Castiel knew of kisses, he’d been kissed before, by Chastity. Chastity had tasted like flavored lip gloss and sorrow. Dean tasted like coffee, eggs, bacon and righteousness. Dean dropped his tie, moved his hands to Castiel’s hips, tugged at the shirt, untucking it from it from pants and placed his hands hard against his hips. Castiel felt the callouses on the palms, but also the softness that was Dean Winchester. Castiel knew the secret, Dean Winchester was tender in his heart. Despite a hard grip, a hard kiss Dean couldn’t hide that fact, not from him. 

Castiel didn’t know what to do with his hands. He knew to move his lips, he tried to remember what to do with his hands but he couldn’t decide. He could copy Dean, he could touch Dean’s jaw, feel the stubble against his cheeks, he could touch Dean’s chest. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to touch this man, this man he’d wanted for far too long, he sometimes thought he’d wanted Dean before Dean even been born. He lifted his hands, but they stumbled in the air unsure of where to go. 

Dean pulled him by his hips, closer, Dean pushed his tongue deeper into Castiel’s mouth, Castiel remembered to use his tongue at that moment and he slide it against Dean’s. Dean moaned, deepened their kiss but let go of Castiel hips and grabbed Castiel’s arms by his wrists. He moved Castiel’s hands to where he wanted them, and for a moment Castiel thought, this is what it’s like for him when I read his thoughts, but he forgot the thought when his hands landed firmly on Dean’s ass. 

Dean broke the kiss for a moment. “Hold on tight, Cas,” he whispered and grabbed Castiel’s ass then kissed him more deeply. 

 

Seven

They ended up on the bed, kissing for an amount of time Castiel found he could not quantify. They’d kissed until Dean had grown sleepy, had yawned into one of the many of a series of kisses, Castiel decided to count as one. Then they’d laid still, wrapped together and sooner than Castiel wanted Dean fell asleep. Castiel didn’t let go of Dean, he expected dreams that spoke of Dean’s fears about Sam to rise up. It didn’t happen, Dean looked as he had when he last parted from Castiel for air, Dean’s face remained relaxed, pleased, and almost goofy. Castiel liked it, it was new, he’d been watching Dean sleep for a little over two years and had never seen this peace before. He felt pride, he felt a bit responsible and found that he liked the feeling. He liked knowing he could give this to Dean. 

Castiel didn’t dare move, he stayed on the bed, one arm pinned between them, splayed on Dean’s chest, heartbeat underneath his palm, the other around Dean’s waist. He counted eyelashes, freckles, he marveled at the deep even breathing and thought again that this was Dean’s first restful sleep in years. He wished he could make it last longer than it would, he knew soon enough Dean would wake up, he just hoped Dean didn’t regret what had happened between them. Castiel wasn’t looking back, he wanted to go forward. 

~~

Dean woke startled more often than not, but he didn’t the morning after kissing Castiel. He woke up, slow, blinking, Castiel’s stubble, nose and mouth going from a blur into sharp focus, then his eyes moved up and met the intensity of Castiel’s gaze, blue heat. A heat he’d finally given into and wondered why he hadn’t sooner. He was sure there was some stupid answer, caught up the apocalypse, humanity on his shoulder, some such bullshit. It seemed stupid though, he could have felt that crazy buzz that was better than any whiskey, or sex with strangers had ever been. It’d just been kissing, hard, rough, new kissing, he’d felt new at it because frankly it’d been new. 

“The sun rose just as you opened your eyes,” Castiel said and Dean thought he heard disappointment in his voice.

“This is bad?”

“You were sleeping well, you should sleep longer.”

Dean found he did not agree, Castiel was on the bed next to him, trench coat off, shirt unbuttoned and untucked; hell even the button of his pants was undone. How had they stopped at kissing? Dean bit his lip, he’d wanted more but held back, not wanting to break the spell, not wanting to screw this up. Fear of doing just that rushed up inside of him, he found himself reaching out, focusing onto Castiel’s chest, he moved forward and kissed Castiel’s neck, placing his palm over Castiel’s chest, right over his heart which surprised him with its beating. It had last night and it did again this morning. Which it shouldn’t have, he thought, he’d heard and seen Castiel breathe. “Can think of better things to do,” Dean said before kissing him. 

Castiel kissed back, quick learner that he was, his tongue found Dean’s mouth before Dean’s found Castiel’s, and Dean slowed down, deciding to allow Castiel to lead the kiss. To see what would happen, what happened was Castiel broke from his mouth and kissed down his jaw and back up.

“You only slept two hours and thirty-four minutes, 39 seconds, you need rest.”

“Slept great,” Dean argued, leaning forward to kiss Castiel’s neck, finding the pulse point and then sucking, wondering if he could make a mark, wondering how long it would last. 

“You had no nightmares.” Castiel was caning his neck, letting him have access, he let out a strangled sound. “Dean,” he said again but it was a moan and not the beginning of a sentence, Dean smiled a bit against Castiel’s skin as he continued to suck. 

Dean continued, Castiel ended up clumsily running his hands through Dean’s hair, down his back, onto his ass, then up again. They’d moved so Dean was over him, Castiel kept wriggling, up and Dean had to use his free hand to palm himself, so he wouldn’t get too hard. He couldn’t go to fast, he could screw this up. He finally felt satisfied he might have made a mark and moved up and grinned. A beautiful hickey on Castiel’s neck greeting him. “Oh yeah,”

Castiel looked up at him, eyes wide and confused. “What?”

“Your first hickey, Cas,” Dean said with pride, sitting back, straddling the angel to get a view of it from further away. “It’s awesome if I do say so myself.”

Castiel leaned up on his elbows, he tried to look at his neck. “I can’t see.”

“Going to need a mirror.”

Dean felt himself stumble onto the bed, his hands hitting warm sheets left from Castiel being there, where he no longer wasn’t. “Fuck, Cas!”

“You broke the blood vessels under my skin,” Castiel said, his voice muffled from the bathroom door.

Dean got off the bed and walked over, opened the door to find Castiel with his neck tilted over to the side, staring at the hickey. He felt the same rush he had last night, the sudden realization of desire that wasn’t new, it’d just been repressed, pushed aside, denied and denied again. Somehow though, after the successful hunt, after saving those two brothers, something had just clicked inside Dean. Opened up and yelled at him, and he couldn’t deny anymore. 

His heart pounded and he realized he was terrified, he cleared his throat and looked away from Castiel. “It’s time to head to Bobby’s, but first things first, I’m starving, get yourself presentable.”

“Do I have to repair the broken blood vessels?” 

“Hell no,” Dean said, trying to ignore the surge of lust and pride that swelled up inside of him. “I, uh, you could let it heal naturally.”

Castiel was still looking at it and didn’t answer. 

“Breakfast?”

“We had breakfast already today?”

“Well, we’ll get pie instead, then we’ll head to...Bobby’s.” Dean thought of Sam, Sam at Bobby’s but he couldn’t quite think it. His mouth felt dry, his palms were sweaty. One was about his brother, the other about the angel he’d just made out with and slept next to. 

Dean had known he was a masochist but here was more proof. He had Sam to deal with and he’d started something crazy and complicated with an angel. But now that he’d started to think about Sam he couldn’t stop. How could his brother stay away. It was impossible to even feel the full brunt of how painful it was to him that his brother could think he could be happy thinking his brother was in Hell, trapped with Lucifer. Adam flashed in his head for a second, but he pushed it down, that was something could stay deep down inside, that was something he could still hide from. Sam he was going to face, he might strangle and hug him at the same time. Sam wanted to make his own choices, but fuck that, consideration of family was part of being an adult, want to make the hard choices, make them right, Dean thought anger at the whole situation rising. But at the same time, Dean knew the second he saw Sam all he would feel was happiness, all this anger and disappointment would sneak back up later -- he didn’t want to make similar mistakes to the ones he’d made in the past. He didn’t want him and Sam to feel like strangers, to mistrust each other. Not anymore, they’d been through too much. 

He was lost. 

“I’m ready, will you be taking a shower?” Castiel asked.

Dean looked up to see Castiel, dressed but rumbled as always, tie on wrong, hair messier than usual, collar a bit too askew showing off the hickey. Dean smiled and closed his eyes at his idiocy. “Yeah,” he said, thinking that next time Castiel was naked in there with him, fuck slow -- or maybe not, he thought as fear niggled at him in the back of his mind. 

~~

Sam frowned. Something wasn’t right, the Impala wasn’t in the driveway, the house seemed empty. Every other time he’d swung by Lisa’s place like this, Dean had been inside, or outside working on the yard or car. Sam frowned more deeply, his palms itched and his head hurt, he pulled out his cell phone. “Bobby, Dean call you with a hunt recently?” he said instead of hello.

“No. Ain’t hurt a word from him in weeks. Probably why your outside that woman’s house right now you idjit. Going to ring the bell this time?”

“No.” Sam said, adamantly, he couldn’t see Dean, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t ruin the normal life his brother finally had, Sam knew Dean wanted it, wanted stability but just would never admit it. First for survival then out of guilt, or some such Dean nonsense, Sam was sure he’d never understand. He just, he just needed to see Dean now and again -- it didn’t mean he’d ever let Dean see him. 

“Damn fool.”

“Call him would you?”

“Call him? What for?”

Sam falter. “To check in, I don’t know make up a hunt near Indiana?”

“Oh, that will fool him, a hunt in his backyard he don’t see for himself. He’s taking a break, idjit not stupid.”

“Bobby!”

“Fine, I’ll call him.” Bobby sighed. 

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, hung up the phone, and started to walk back down the street to the convenience store where he’d parked his car. When he saw an unfamiliar car pull into the driveway. 

“Ben, wait!” A young teenaged girl yelled, getting out of the driver side a full minute after the young boy.

“No.” Ben hopped the fence to his backyard, rather than use the gate, “I want to be alone, leave me alone.”

“Ben, come on, your mom said homework then play.”

“No!” Ben yelled disappearing from sight.

Sam watched, surprised, amazed, more worried. The young girl, the babysitter Sam realized with confusion, saw him as she pulled her bags out of the car. She gave him a shrug as to say, ‘little kids’ what to do but Sam decided to use it for information. “What’s wrong? He seems upset.”

“I don’t really know the story, but I was out of a babysitting for a while here, someone was living with them, they left and the kids a bit upset. Says he’s fine, but then there is,” he pointed toward the backyard. “Been a handful, I guess it will calm down.”

“Right,” Sam said, turning back to his walk, his mind going in circles. Dean left, he left Lisa, what did he do? What did his brother do to mess this up? Was he coming back, would he be able to fix it, would Lisa take him back? Lisa had to take Dean back -- a small voice in Sam’s head told him it was miracle she took him in the first place -- Dean needed her, he needed normal after all he’d been through. Lisa and Ben were perfect for his brother, they could fill his holes well enough, help him through life when Sam couldn’t. This wasn’t good. He jumped when his phone rang and realized he was sitting his car without even knowing how he got there.

“Bobby? Where is he? He left Lisa’s, what happened? What did he do?”

“He’s on a hunt with Castiel, says it was important, couldn’t say no.”

“Castiel?”

“What he said, boy.”

“But he’s going back to Lisa’s right?” Sam said because the story he got from the babysitter hadn’t sounded like Ben’s father figure was just out of town on business. Castiel, a hunt with Castiel.

“Don’t know, didn’t ask him about his girlfriend for crying out loud, think I’m Oprah or something, boy. You should just tell --”

“If you aren’t Oprah don’t give advice,” Sam snapped, then sighed, he sounded like Dean. “I’m sorry, Bobby, I just I want him to be happy.”

“So you say, boy,” Bobby said, then hung up. 

Sam sighed, he needed to do more investigation. 

~~

“You didn’t tell Bobby we were on our way.”

“Won’t get there until tomorrow anyway. Don’t want him tipping, Sam.”

“He hasn’t tipped you.”

“Yeah, well, if he knows I know it’d be easy for him to say something that’d put Samantha’s knickers in a twist.” Dean slowed down the Impala so he was only six miles over the speed limit instead of a full ten, Sam wasn’t in South Dakota anyway -- apparently he was in Cicero. “Hypocrite.”

“Sam?” Castiel said, his hand floating in his air over Dean’s knee, like he wanted to put it there but wasn’t sure if he should, or could.

Dean grabbed the hand, placed it on thigh instead, sighing about Sam. “Yeah. Told him once how Dad swung by Standford to check in on him once. He seemed happy with the information at first, then interrogated me about and got pissed that Dad knew almost everything about his life but never said hi. Hypocrite. Swear he gets more like Dad every layer I peel down on that kid.”

“I see,” Castiel said, an odd edge in his voice. 

“You’re pretty pissed at God, Cas. Even more pissed then when I told you he told us we had to handle Lucifer ourselves.”

“I was more disappointed and directionless, then, yes.” Castiel squeezed his thigh.

“Going to tell me what happened, uptairs Cas, when you met him.”

“Yes. But not until you reunite with Sam.

Dean nodded, accepting it though he was disappointed. Not in Castiel, he believed Castiel fully, he would tell him everything in time, no he was upset that Castiel wasn’t going to give him the distraction of being mad at God. Figured that was exactly why Castiel wouldn’t tell him, the guy was crafty. Dean let go of the wheel with his right hand, and covered Castiel’s on his thigh. 

They both jumped when a cellphone started ringing in Castiel’s pocket. “Shit. You still have that thing?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, because obviously he did, Dean sighed as the hand on his thigh pulled out from under his and answered the phone. “Hello.”

He snickered, an angel using a phone, it got funnier every time. 

“Sam?” Castiel said, his eyes widening.

Dean gripped the wheel with both hands again, white knuckling it and gritting his teeth. Son of a bitch, he’s calling Castiel, now. 

“I am surprised, yes....” Castiel was saying, then he looked at Dean looking a bit lost. “Do I tell him I knew already,” he mouthed.

Dean shook his head.

“How did you get out Sam?” Castiel asked. “I can tell it’s you, your essence carries over the phone...I have time for a long story, does Dean know your back he hasn’t mentioned it...”

Dean grinned, yeah bring me up, make him guilty Dean thought, unable no too even if he felt a bit like a kid and an heel for doing it. 

“I see. No, Sam, I do not agree,” Castiel said. “I do not think that is wise...”

Dean snapped his fingers to get Castiel’s decision. “Go along with not telling me,” he mouthed. 

Castiel nodded. “As I was saying, I do not think it is wise, I disagree but this is something I believe Dean should hear from you.”

Dean sighed, he really wished he had heard it from Sam, as grateful as he was to Castiel.

“I see. Lisa and Ben? Uh,” Castiel looked at Dean.

Dean sighed, Sam got an idea in his head he was tunnell-visioned. “I’m going back,” he mouthed. 

“He’s going back. Yes. I needed his skills as a hunter. I was... I was trying to teach the other angels about free-will and it’s blessings. No, it didn’t go well.”

Dean shifted a bit in his seat as he looked over toward Castiel this time, that didn’t sound good. “What?” he said softly.

Castiel looked at Dean and shook his head ruefully. “Yes, Sam, I’ll keep the secret. Dean’s looking for me, Sam...yes. Goodbye.”

“Heaven wasn’t a happy place for you, was it?”

“No. I’m much happier here,” Castiel said, his hand falling back on Dean’s thigh making Dean blushed as he realized it felt like it belonged there.

Dean covered it again, threading their fingers together a bit and squeezed, despite his heart pounding about what he was getting into with Castiel, despite still feeling pissed at Sam -- Dean was glad he had the upper hand, with Sam, he just hoped he and Sam found a way to get past this better than they had in the past when they separated out of stupidity. Bobby was right they were idjits, Dean sighed.

“It will be okay,” Castiel said.

Dean sped up the Impala. 

 

Eight

Dean turned from the check-in desk at the motel, watched as Castiel stood outside the Impala, his hands in his trench coat pockets, slouched against the passenger door, eyes closed but head tilted up toward the sky. Dean hoped to hell he wasn’t in contact with Heaven, that he didn’t need to go back. He didn’t like the idea, in fact he hated it, in the past few days having Castiel around had put a lot of things in perspective. He knew where he wanted to be now, where he really wanted to be -- it wasn’t some fantasy in his head of a perfect life he’d been thinking of since the djinn and then slotted Lisa into with the hope of Ben really being his. Ben wasn’t his, not really, he’d always be there for the kid but it’d been an old fantasy and old dream, held onto far too long. 

And during all that holding on, Castiel had been there, walked into his life, grabbed hold -- literally -- and just was there. He’d felt the hole the Castiel as much as Sam -- still was feeling Sam but that would end soon enough. Castiel had been such a silent, constant, solid presence that Dean hadn’t really realized how much he needed it. Until Castiel was only a once a day deal in his life, and hell the first time Dean walked outside Lisa’s missing something he didn’t know he missed, and thought about Castiel. He hadn’t thought he’d see him again ever, but one thought and Castiel was there. 

Dean didn’t have many things he could count on. Counting on Castiel was important to him, he didn’t want to have to share. He really hated sharing the few things he did have. Sam, Bobby, Castiel, his car. They were it and Castiel was more than just someone he counted on. He wanted him, had for a long time but buried it down, with rationalizations of angel, wouldn’t want me, he knows how tainted I am. Purposely stayed with the idea of Lisa and Ben in his head -- never thought his brother would think it could be real. But Sam wanted normal for him, like Dean wanted normal for him. He’d said yes, he wanted to be Ben’s father -- that was the one thing he wished he could make a reality. Tomorrow he really had to call the kid, but he couldn’t be with LIsa, not anymore, he never thought about touching her unless she made it obvious it would be welcomed. And then he couldn’t, instead he’d go outside and wait for Castiel but never say anything, not even let himself think it. 

Then Castiel showed up, with the news Sam was alive and every rational, every denial just slid away like that. He didn’t want to stop hunting, that was obvious with all the hunts he’d sent Bobby, he couldn’t stop looking for them. If one had shown up near Circero, Dean knew he’d have taken it. Castiel himself, there, a solid presence for more than a moment at time. Castiel had always flown in and flown out, before, brief contact, never enough -- except for that one time with Raphael and that’d been one of the best three days of his life. Until now.

He didn’t want Castiel to fly out, again, ever. Dean swallowed hard as he took the keys from the guy behind the counter, he was terrified, in a few hours he’d be back with Sam, he had this thing with Castiel he couldn’t deny anymore, and he’d be hunting again, saving people from things, doing what he’d always truly loved to do. He’d just forgotten with how it was going after Sam, going after him, going after the world, now he remembered. He was about to be pretty happy -- if he didn’t fuck it up. 

Dean walked back out to the Impala, noted how Castiel was still in the same position but now he could see his face more clearly. It wasn’t happy, he was frowning, his nose was scrunch up and there was a furrow in his brow. “Hey, Cas, you okay?” he asked the fear Castiel was going to say he was leaving rising up. 

“No.” Castiel opened his eyes and shook his head. “I am confused.”

Dean nodded, then went to the trunk to grab his back. “God?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Dean slung his back over his shoulder, shut the trunk and started toward their room. “Cas, uh, you can talk to me, you know,” he said, the words feeling unfamiliar on his lips, usually Sam only got this kind of reaction out of him. It was cool but scary, man he sounded like a scared little boy in his own head. He had to stop fixating on his fear of failure, probably make it true he didn’t stop. And shit when did he get so fucking self-aware?

“Feelings are complicated,” Castiel said, watching as Dean opened their door.

Dean laughed, thinking about his own rambling thought process on his own feelings the past few days, years, really. He couldn’t wrap his mind about how it might be for Castiel. “Understatement, man.”

Castiel followed him into the room, Dean threw his stuff onto the bed, started to take off his jacket. “Cas, take off the coat.” he said.

Castiel took off his coat but didn’t continue the conversation. Dean sighed. “Anna, said angels didn’t feel, so my guess is sudden complicated feelings kind of hard?”

“Anna was wrong, Angel’s feel, it was just different, it was wrapped up in God. Hurt feelings and confusion about his absence is what led to the Apocalypse you and your brother averted.” 

“You too,” Dean said, thinking there was no way he’d have made as far as he did without Castiel. 

“Thank you but it was you and Sam. As it had to be, I’m sorry about that, it’s one of the things that has me so angry.”

Dean nodded, he got it. “Why God tried to make destiny play out his way?”

“I do believe he wanted you and Sam to win. Yet he allowed your suffering.” 

Dean shrugged. “Told you he’s dick.”

Castiel sighed. “I should feel shame for agreeing with you. I should be offended. If I were still without free-will I would. But I am changed. I am more human.”

Dean smiled. “It works on you, Cas.”

Castiel met his eyes and smiled. 

“Take off the tie, shoes, it’s more comfortable.”

Castiel nodded and followed suit, Dean watched then took off his own boots. “So, uh, wanna share more?”

Castiel looked up from where he was looking at his black sock clad feet. “I do and I don’t, I find.”

“Yeah, I get that. So you’re mad at God but still love him?” Dean asked, because he remembers that feeling, he still has it somedays thinking about his dad, but in the end of things he comes back to the fact his father loved him, loved Sam and everything he did was to make them stronger and able to fight. Dean was pissed he never shared just how much he knew, but he had a pretty good feeling John Winchester may not have known about Angels and Lucifer but he’d been aware of Azazel’s feeding Sammy demon blood and how that didn’t hold anything good for the world. 

“Yes. I want to forgive him but I am finding it hard to,” Castiel said, looking lost.

Dean decided it was time to change the subject because he knew there was nothing to say to help. He crossed the space between him and Castiel, and started to unbutton the dress shirt. “We’re going to bed now, no more talking,” he said, as he popped opened more buttons, his mouth widening into a wide grin when his eyes fell on the hickey on Castiel’s neck.

“I want to mark you,” Castiel said.

“Already have, dude,” Dean said with a laugh, pushing the shirt off of Castiel, lazily taking in all the well toned pale skin. 

“Then want to again,”

Dean took in a deep breath, he was getting to turned on, he had no plans to rush this, but damn. “Yeah, okay,” he whispered, pulling off Castiel’s belt, then unbuttoning his pants his fingers feeling clumsy now. Suddenly he was in a hurry. 

“I suck until the blood vessels break underneath your skin, on your neck?”

“Anywhere on my body will work,” Dean said, pulling down the pants, then blinking in surprise. “Is that, Kermit the Frog?”

Castiel looked down at the boxer shorts that had been revealed. “It seems to be an image of something green, it does not look like a frog to me.”

“It’s a muppet.”

“A what?” Castiel said.

“We’ll get the DVDs, everyone should know The Muppets, Cas,” Dean laughed.

“I believe Claire gave these to Jimmy.”

Dean had to grin. “Yeah, that sounds about right, these right here, your best article of clothing,” Dean then grabbed the fabric and used it to pull Castiel with him, until his legs hit the bed and he turned around and pushed Castiel onto it. 

“Do I get to suck your neck, now?”

Dean groaned, wondering just how that was one of the sexiest things he’d ever heard. “You get to watch me strip down first, my boxers are boring though, don’t get your hopes up.”

“I can’t suck your neck?” Castiel said, Dean thought maybe it almost sounded like a whine, shit that was hot. 

“Oh you are,” he said, working fast on pulling off all of his clothes, stopping at his boxers, forgetting his socks in his hurry. Then he was on the bed, over Castiel, pushing him down flat. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Castiel said, his voice low.

Dean swallowed, everything feeling intimate but good in a way he hadn’t felt before. He bent down and kissed Castiel soft and fast, afraid if he did it for any longer he’d take things too far, too fast. Then he climbed over him, pulled Castiel with him more fully onto the bed and maneuvered them until they were on their sides facing each other. He felt squirmy, afraid and sure. Castiel was right, feelings were complicated. “Cas?” 

“Yes?”

Dean sighed, he didn’t know what he wanted to say but he wanted to say something. “Thank you,” he said simply.

Castiel searched his eyes in reply, long and hard, Dean held his breath until Castiel smiled in response. Then Castiel moved forward and latched his mouth onto Dean’s neck, at his pulse point, mirroring where Dean had placed his hickey. Dean closed his eyes and fell into the sensation, thinking slow was going to be a bitch with Cas. 

~~

Sam barged into Bobby’s kitchen a bit after midnight, eyes tired from driving straight from Cicero, head hurting from worrying about Dean out there hunting and not safe with Lisa and Ben. Not happy in a family. He dropped his duffle on the floor, went straight to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold beer. 

Behind him he heard Bobby’s footsteps come into the kitchen, Bobby didn’t say anything but Sam could feel the weight of Bobby’s eyes on his back. He was thinking something and same felt grouchy, tired and worried and didn’t feel like being nice. “What? Bobby? What?” He snapped.

“Spoke to your brother, today.”

“I know, I asked you too.”

“Haven’t spoken to him in a bit, he sounded different.” 

Sam drank down more than half his beer, Bobby stood waiting for him to ask, letting what he said in the air. A part of Sam wanted to let it go, he saw the look in Bobby’s eyes, the look that said you’re being a moron, you’re being dumb, he didn’t want to hear it. All he wanted was Dean to be safe, he couldn’t be, not with everything he’d done of his own volition but Dean, Dean was different. Only he couldn’t stand it, it was Dean, he wanted to know how Dean was, how he sounded. “Fine, what, Bobby?”

“He sounded lighter, like maybe he’d found a way to be somewhat happy and you know why, kid?”

Sam shrugged. “Why?”

“He was hunting. He told me about a hunt they did, him and the angel -- saved two kids. Put a sound in his voice I haven’t heard in an age.”

Sam closed his eyes.

“Sounded like he used too, buzzed off the rush, happy about the rescue. He’s built for hunting more than most folks out there, I think its good he went off on a hunt, kid.”

Sam sighed, dropped the empty bottle on the counter and faced Bobby fully. “You can’t keep the people you love safe if you’re hunting. He should be with them, playing catch, Bobby.”

Bobby shrugged then too. “I’m just saying, it’s late go up to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said without thought, walking past Bobby. “Thanks Bobby, I know you don’t agree with me.”

“Kid, I’ll do anything for you boys, even go along with your dumbfounded idjit plans,” Bobby said, then he turned and walked away. “Now to go bed, I got a book I’m reading and don’t need you hulking around blocking my light.”

~~

“You and Dean, Castiel, this pleases me.” 

Castiel tensed, Dean was asleep, half his body sprawled over Castiel’s. He blinked at Chuck, unnerved since he hadn’t sensed his father’s arrival. “Don’t wake him.”

Chuck turned around, walked to the door and opened it. “Meet me outside, then Castiel.”

Castiel frowned, he had his left hand at the end of Dean’s hairline at his neck, slowly teasing the hair, then then skin with the pads of his fingers, it’d been comforting, nice, a good way to while away the hours as he waited for Dean to wake. A good place to be to stop any nightmares from lessening Dean’s rest. He didn’t want to move. 

“He’ll stay sound asleep, Castiel.”

“Don’t mess with his head,” Castiel growled.

Chuck sighed, “Castiel, I am not requesting your presence.”

Castiel growled again, but he carefully extracted himself from Dean, the air feeling cool against the parts of him that Dean’s body heat had warmed. Chuck left the room and Castiel followed him, with each step he felt warier, more tired, more confused. 

Outside Chuck looked up at the sky and sighed. “Cloudy night, I was hoping to see some stars. I’ll have to go to the mountains before I return to Heaven.”

“So you will be staying there, then? For how long?”

Chuck chuckled, “I haven’t decided. I’m am unsure if what I feel is best for you, is best for all Angels. I want them to find their own way as you have -- that is easier said than done. Your journey was unique.”

Castiel frowned. “They weren’t open to free will.”

“No. Even from me they are not. I’m afraid very few hold humans in the same esteem as you did, or even with curiosity and want as Anna did. I am hoping Gabriel will be a help, I’ve allowed him to go visit his friend Kali before returning home.”

“You brought back Gabriel?”

“You and he, are the most human of my arch angels, Raphael is very angry. More so than you. And there are no battles to be fought right now. Chaos here on Earth in the wake of Lucifer, but it is something the hunters can handle, other humans as well. They are my instruments here. As are you now.”

Castiel stilled. “I do not understand.”

“Angel of Thursday, of Travelers, you are now also the Angel of Hunters, if you wish. I will not force the title onto you. Like I said I am pleased about you and Dean.”

“I am still angry, I do not know if I can forget, I am trying to forgive, but it is difficult. You have taken much from Dean, from Sam. Their brother Adam?”

Chuck sighed. “I can’t bring him back. He was meant to die when the ghoul took him, Michael never should have pulled him into this, he is at peace however, he is not with Michael and Lucifer. You should tell Sam, he holds a lot of guilt about not bringing Adam back with him.”

“You won’t be bring back Michael?”

“I had hoped he’d refuse to fight Lucifer. Much like Dean always chose to be there for his brother rather than be against him. I’m hoping he’ll learn something with Lucifer. That Lucifer may learn something from Sam’s choice while sharing a being.”

Castiel looked back to the motel door, it hadn’t closed completely behind him, he could see Dean sleeping and he wanted to go back inside. “Why?” he asked, turning to his father. “Why let so much suffering happen?”

“It’s the price of freewill. Humanity is flawed, Castiel. You know this, yet you have chosen a human form, a human love. You don’t regret it. If I resurrected you human you would make the same choices.”

Castiel nodded even though he was still confused. “I don’t forgive you, not yet.”

“I know, Castiel. I just came to tell you, you are always welcome in Heaven, your prayers will be heard, and that if you wish you are the Angel of Hunters.”

Castiel turned toward Dean, he thought of Sam and he thought of Bobby, Jo and Ellen Harvelle, John Winchester, Mary Winchester and her parents the Campbells. “They are you instruments yet they never had an angel before?”

“I was waiting to see who was worthy of such a task, it would take a special touch.”

Castiel watched as Dean moved in his sleep, toward where Castiel had been, his hands searching, he feared for a moment he would wake, but he didn’t and he knew his answer. “I will be that angel.”

There was no sound but that of vehicle on the nearby highway. Castiel turned from Dean and saw that Chuck had left. Castiel shook his head and went back inside. 

Nine

Dean turned off the radio, grabbing Castiel’s attention from his thoughts about his father. He turned toward Dean, wondered if maybe he was sitting too close to him for a moment, before he squeezed the warm, thigh his hand was resting on and tilted his head in question. Dean was licking his lips, he watched curious, attracted and knowing it meant Dean was readying to speak, to say something he didn’t find easy speak aloud.

“Only another other hour and then we are....then I see Sam,” Dean said.

Castiel nodded, tried to look reassuring when Dean’s gaze drifted from the road to his, he hoped he succeeded. Dean smiled, his gaze flicking back to the road. “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s normal.”

“Nothing about you and Sam is normal. The things you two accomplished were biblical.”

Dean shook his head, rolled his eyes, and gave Castiel a look that said to never say ‘biblical’ again, Castiel just met his gaze with one that said he could make no such promise. 

“He and I, we never really worked totally through the problems we were having. I trusted him again, but now this -- and I know I’m just going to be so relieved to see him, that I won’t yell, not until a few days later and...”

“Then don’t yell a few days, later,” Castiel offered.

Dean sighed, his grip tightened on the steering wheel, Castiel felt the car speed up. “It’s not that easy, he’s hurt me.” Castiel watched Dean duck his head a bit, saw his cheeks colored, he squeezed Dean’s thigh, he really wanted to know how to tell Dean, in a way he would believe, that he could tell Castiel anything about himself and not feel judged. 

“I know,’ Castiel said. “I also know you love him and forgive him.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I will, I do, but, man I don’t get it.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t hold back communication.”

“Walk in and start sharing and caring, that’s just...we’re going to hug, he’s alive, it’s overwhelming enough, Cas,” Dean sighed. 

Castiel frowned. “You share and care with me often.”

Dean blushed again and glanced at Castiel for a moment that felt longer than on should while driving but Castiel didn’t worry -- he knew Dean had control of the car, he could sense they were safe too anyway. “You’re different,” Dean said. “You and me, we...”

“Mark each other?” Castiel said, lifting his eyebrows.

Dean grinned, and raised an eyebrow. “Shit, you’re learning to flirt, and yeah.”

“He’s your brother, you love him more than anyone.”

Dean turned away, his cheeks still red, sped up the car more and seemed to fall into his head. Castiel wanted to poke his thought, just glance at them, gather them up but he wouldn’t, not now. He’d promised he’d only read what Dean couldn’t hide from his angelic senses, privacy was something he owed Dean. So Castiel waited, and after a few minutes Dean licked his lips again. 

“Yeah, so, I think I will try talking it sooner rather than later, plus he’s got to understand why I left Lisa’s. It couldn’t have worked out.”

Castiel nodded. “I’m thankful for that, and yes talk to Sam.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, dropping a hand from the steering wheel and to lace his fingers with Castiel’s hand on his thigh. “yeah.”

Castiel stared at their hands, felt the warmth of Dean become a part of his own and leaned back in the seat. He’d been thinking about his conversation with Chuck last night before and now the thoughts about it were coming back to him. Dean had just shared something hard for him to say out loud. He should share too, he thought.

“I spoke with God last night.”

Dean tensed, his hand flew back to the steering wheel, Castiel sat up straighter realizing his mistake, he grabbed Dean’s hand, wanting it back and needing to make a point. “I’m not leaving.”

Dean let out a breath, then cursed under his breath. “Let’s just pretend I did not just react like a little girl?”

Castiel felt bemused, he would never understand why Dean insisted listening to his heart, or his fears were somehow related to being ‘a girl’. “You are under a lot of stress, it’s reasonable,” he said.

“So, uh, God?”

“Yes. I was given the choice to take up another title, another purpose under God’s name. I said yes, despite not yet being able to forgive him for -- a lot of things.”

“Uh, what’s the new job?”

“I am now, along with being the Angel of Thursday and Travelers, the Angel of Hunters.”

Dean turned toward him eyes wide. “Seriously? Hunters? You do know that most hunters who pray are weird Jesus freaks?”

Castiel laughed, he wasn’t sure why but it struck him as funny. “Most of them are good people, who may need some guidance, I want to try to help them.”

Dean sighed. “there are hunters out there who, they get...”

“Lost. Maybe I can help with that, so they don’t become like the monsters they hunt -- stay true to their calling like you.”

Dean snorted. “Don’t hold me up as some paragon of hunter virtue.”

Castiel snorted in response, “Virtue?” Privately he thought that Dean underestimated his value, just as always, he wondered if he would ever be able to help Dean believe in himself as those who knew him did. 

“Dean, I found myself glad to see my father last night, yet angry at him, still. But when he offered me this new responsibility I felt proud.”

“He should be proud of you.”

Castiel wondered if that was true, wondered if his first thought of ‘why’ meant he was like Dean in his own view of himself. He pushed it aside for later thought and decided to share something else. “Also you should know, God brought back Gabriel, to help him in Heaven.”

“Fuck. Help Heaven then,” Dean laughed. “Cas? You going to tell me why meeting him made you even more pissed off at him?”

“He lived on here on Earth, as a human, he was someone I met. He kept his true self from me, from many others. He lived a fallible life and never told you who he really was.”

“Me? I met him?”

“Yes.”

Dean glance at Castiel. “So God, was around and the amulet?”

“He must have deactivated it. To remain hidden.”

Dean grimaced and squeezed Castiel hand. “I get the being pissed, but hey, congratulations on the job. So you think you will forgive him?”

“Maybe. Someday. Not soon.”

“Who was he?”

Castiel sighed. “I’ll tell you and Sam, soon, but not now.”

Dean nodded. “Almost there, I hope I don’t screw this up.”

“I have faith in you and your brother. You always stand by each other.”

“Huh, I kind of agree with that,” Dean said. 

~~

 

Jessica was beautiful, she was standing under the stars, staring at the moon, wind blowing her hair around her face. Sam wanted to reach out and touch but he couldn’t move, he could only watch her. Then she looked down from the moon, straight at him and said. “He’s here, Sam. Don’t you hear it?”

Sam woke up, clear-headed, eyes wide and his heart beating to fast. He heard a car crunching gravel, it’s engine getting closer and closer, it’s engine sounded like home, like safety, like Dean. “No!” he said, fear and guilt slamming down on him, he pushed off the couch, Bobby’s couch, in Bobby’s living room where he’d fallen asleep reading. He ran to the stairs and yelled, “Bobby! Bobby!” He ran up the stairs, his panic making him stumble, still yelling for Bobby. He opened Bobby’s door, hitting it with his body in his rush to get through.

“What the hell, boy,” Bobby yelled from his bed.

“Dean’s here, you don’t say anything, Bobby, you here?”

Just then came a sharp loud knock on the door downstairs. Sam jumped and Bobby swore under his breath, grabbing the trucker cap on his nightstand and putting it on his head. “And just how is not going to notice you?”

“I’ll be in the panic room, until he leaves. Bobby, I’m serious.”

The knock came again.  
 Sam ran out of Bobby’s room not waiting for an answer. He got to the panic room without even realizing he’d hit the first floor, closed the door behind him, wishing he could lock himself inside. Wishing he was in a crap hotel room, wishing he didn’t want to run upstairs and see his brother. 

Anger rose up at Castiel, at his last thought, why had Castiel let Dean come here. He knew Sam didn’t want him to know anything, he’d promised not to tell, angels kept promises didn’t they? Or at least Castiel would, Sam amended. He sat down on the cot, tried to even out his breathing, trying to stop his heart from hammering in his head. He also tried to keep himself heavy in his seat, like he could will himself not to stand up, go to the stairs and eavesdrop. He didn’t need to hear Dean’s voice, he didn’t...

He was at the door to the basement, leaning against the crack that he’d left when the door hadn’t closed all the way behind him. Dean was knocking again, Bobby hadn’t gotten to the door yet. Sam swallowed down the urge to go let his brother inside, himself. 

“Hold your horses, I’m coming you idjit!” Bobby yelled, Sam heard his feet hitting the stairs down toward the front door. Sam moved himself more fully against the wall, but couldn’t make himself go all the way down the stairs and back to the panic room.

He heard the door creak open. “What the hell you doing here, this early in the morning, sun hasn’t even begun to shine.”

“Wanted to see your pretty face,” Dean said and Sam felt his heart lurch in his chest. His brother sounded sarcastic, he could hear the smirk on Dean’s face but also the fondness, the love he knew Dean always held for Bobby. Sam closed his eyes. This was too hard, he thought. 

“Castiel,” Bobby said to the angel in way of greeting.

“Bobby,” Castiel said.

“So where is he?” Dean said.

“Where is who?” Bobby asked not missing a beat.

“Sam, Bobby. I know he’s here.”

Sam swore at Castiel, he wasn’t supposed to tell he promised.

“That promise was moot, Sam, I’d told him already you were here,” Castiel’s voice came through loud and clear. Sam braced himself and started to move forward.

“The basement,” Castiel said, probably in answer to a look Dean gave him. 

“Don’t bother coming out, Sam. We’re doing this in the panic room, alone.” Dean ordered; and Sam heard boots hitting the hardwood floor and he stepped down a few steps. 

The door flung open and there Dean stood, Sam swallowed. Dean breathed in sharply and they both took a step toward the other and where hugging, hard and tight. Nothing had felt so right since he’d gotten out of the Pit, Sam thought and he blinked against the tears in his eyes. 

~~

Dean let go of Sam only when he realized he wasn’t breathing. He’d been holding on tight to Sam, letting tears burn his eyes and held his breath through it all. He pulled back, took in needed oxygen and shook his head. “Sammy, you fucking stupid...” he sighed and pushed Sam lightly, playfully. “Downstairs.”

Sam looked away, guilt clouding his features and Dean didn’t allow himself to feel too guilty for feeling good about that. Kid deserved it, he thought, even as he itched to touch him again, to feel him all warm and solid alive against him. To check and see that his hair needed to be cut and that his face was still that of his kid brother, all wide angles and stupid bitch faces. 

The stepped through the door of the panic room, Dean only an inch behind Sam. Then stood in the middle facing each other and Dean took a step forward. Hand on Sam’s shoulder, checking his eyes, looking him over. “You need a haircut, you look good,” he said in one breath, his voice choked from emotion. 

“You too,” Sam said. “Well, not the haircut,” he muttered. Sam’s voice was squeaky too and Dean felt as overwhelmed as he knew he would. He wanted to just enjoy this, pretend it was okay because they were together again, Sam wasn’t in Hell. Thank God, even if he is a dick, Sam isn’t in Hell. 

But that wasn’t the plan and he was sticking to the plan, because Sammy was everything to him, Sammy was his family and he wasn’t going to screw this up. “What the hell, Sammy, I had to hear this from Cas.”

Sam looked away and down, looking ashamed but also determined. “I, Dean, I don’t even know how I got out. I just, suddenly Lucifer wasn’t inside me anymore, I didn’t want him there and it knocked him out I guess? I don’t really know, and I tried to grab onto Adam, take him away from Michael but I couldn’t -- I’m so sorry,” he looked away.

“It’s okay,” Dean said without thought. “I mean, Adam’s fine, he’s in his picture perfect memory-o-rama heaven. Castiel says he’ll try to get him and his mom together somewhere.”

Sam looked up then, tears streaking his face and he sighed, a deep long relieved breath. “Thank...Thank Cas,” he said with a weak laugh.

“Yeah,” Dean said, thinking of Castiel and unable to not smile. “Sammy, why didn’t you come to me?”

“You were with Lisa. I know how much it meant to you, the normal life, Lisa, Ben, baseball games...I wanted you have that, to keep it, I...I’ve got things to make up for.”

“And I don’t? Sammy, come on, we’re on the same ground.”

Sam sighed. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“I wasn’t. For someone so smart...I was far from happy, Sam. I was avoiding seeing Bobby, but ended up calling him every week, finding a hunt because I couldn’t stop looking. None were ever near Cicero though, drove me crazy, I wanted an excuse to leave, drive away. Lisa, she’s great, she is, I love her but...” Dean sighed. “I need to hunt, Sam. It’s who I am, Cas I did this hunt before we came here, we saved these two kids, their on their own. Reminded me of us when we were kids, you and me against the world. You know? I forgot how good it felt, to just end the spirit, kill the sucker and see the person that was unfortunate enough to be in its way, alive and smiling. I want to hunt, I need to hunt.”

“But Lisa?” Sam said, stubborn as usual. “You want to be with her, be a father to Ben.”

“I’m going to stay in contact with Ben, I owe him, can’t walk into a kids life and then just walk away, I’m not an ass. But Lisa, I don’t...I’m,” Dean blushed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I want Cas, Sam, not her.”

“Cas?” Sam’s eyes are wide, his mouth open. “Cas?”

“Yeah, close your mouth, ain’t like you don’t know I like a guy now and then.”

Sam closed his mouth and shook his head. “But Lisa, the dreams?”

“Started before I met Castiel, and look they were real dreams. A real fantasy, but they weren’t real, they were incomplete. Before I slotted in Lisa and added Ben, they had that chick the Djinn’s acid created in my head. I wanted that feeling but not really Lisa? This isn’t making sense, I suck at talking about this shit.”

Sam moved forward and grabbed Dean in a hug. “I think I get it, I just... I wanted you to be happy and safe. I wanted you to get a break, you were so...”

“Yeah I was, I was pretty beat up and tired, Sam. But break is over.” Dean said, holding onto Sam tight again, but making sure to breathe this time. “I’m still mad at you,” he said.

“You’ll forgive me,” Sam said.

“Yeah.”

“I should have, I’m sorry Dean. I just wanted you to be...”

“I am. Now, I am.”

Sam laughed. “Castiel, huh?”

Dean grinned. “He’s an arch angel you know. He’s badass.”

Sam laughed, pulled back a bit but didn’t let go of Dean just yet. “So, we’re going to hunt?”

“Yeah, Sammy. You and me, we’re going to hunt things, save people, the family business.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, okay.”

The End.


End file.
